


Sunflowers in June

by stars__buttons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Multi, Plot related, Reader-Insert, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Self-Insert, Slight changes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26315620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stars__buttons/pseuds/stars__buttons
Summary: ____ is a transfer student who joined Hogwarts at her fourth year. While transfer were nearly unheard of among the student body, they were not deemed impossible. At least, assuming they were under normal circumstances.Seemingly quiet and reserved, with a quick wit and charm, there is little the students of magic know about this new student, and perhaps that was for good reason.She seemed to have a humor from a different time, a pessimistic view (strange for a hufflepuff), and an attitude of someone who lost more than she gained.While wandering in her free period, ____ finds herself in a wardrobe. The back was fake and a tunnel lead to a secret room where a pit of twins were creating “Weezers.”From this moment on, she finds herself friends with many of the well-known witches and wizards, and right in the middle of the war.This story will stretch on from the beginning of GoF to the end of Deathly-Hallows.
Relationships: Cedric Diggory/Reader, Draco Malfoy/Reader, Fred Weasley/Reader, George Weasley/Reader, Harry Potter/Reader, Neville Longbottom/Reader, Ron Weasley/Reader
Comments: 25
Kudos: 188





	1. Demo Chapter (to be revised)

There are many things in the world that Y/N knew to be absolutely certain, and many things she knew that were absolutely not. For instance, hot chocolate could always cure a broken heart, the soft steps of leaves will always awaken your soul, and sometimes what is not known is best left that way. It was in this that Y/N found comfort. When life was uncertain, dark, and deceiving, she could rely on the simple truth that humans will not know everything, and that the unknown was ordinary in disguise.

However, this simple truth began to fade when the search for those mysteries became her studious career. At age eleven, Y/N’s parents were most proud to find out their muggle daughter was gifted with the power of magic. It was celebrated among the best of her relatives, and laughed at from the worst. Y/N was more excited than anyone, but that didn’t mean she was happy to leave home for the first time. She had been attending public school for her entire life, but Hogwarts was a magic boarding school hidden far from the wandering eyes of muggles. So, on September first, after her eleventh birthday, Y/N hopped on a train in a station she’d never heard before, and left to study magic.

While this is a lovely and heartwarming story, some are best left told later in the years. While Y/N would tell funny stories of the life of Hogwarts, and the strange occurrences that involved Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger, her story does not start on that first year in the train.

Instead, her story begins much more interestingly.

To start off, it must be known that the class structure of the wizarding world is divided based on blood relations to magic. Purebloods, while not explicitly said by society, were known as the best of the witches and wizards. Not muggle-blood in their veins, and no need to hide their family in the muggle world. Next were the half-bloods. While it was unknown whether having a magical mum or dad was better or worse, they were seen equal on the scale of magic. And the last, and most controversial of bloodlines- are the muggle-born students. Many protests, wars, and discrimination was towards muggle-born witches and wizards, even in the 20th century. No one likes to admit the obvious tipped scale, but Y/N certainly noticed in the subtlest of ways.

And that is where we begin.

Well, we begin in a wardrobe.

Thanks to her birth in the muggle world, Y/N was able to read many books about fantasy and magic when it was nothing but a story. One of her more favorite children's novels were that of ‘The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.’ However, she never thought she would remember such book by physically being locked in a cupboard, only to find the back was a faux door leading to a secret tunnel.

It was her fourth year at Hogwarts, and the new drama of ‘Harry and friends’ had begun to arise once more. Y/N was focusing on her own studies in Herbology and the Witch Cookery classes; too much so to be concerned with Harry’s name being selected. She was often seen as a daydreamer and a star-child, with her head either way up or down, to the point that anyone could do anything and she’d barely bat an eye. When her knees hit the wardrobe floor, she hadn’t been paying attention enough to notice if someone had accidentally bumped her, or if she’d been shoved purposefully. Either way, someone locked the doors after.

The passage way that opened before her was a dimly lit hall, with enough room for her to stand and walk comfortably down. She had heard of secret passageways hidden through the walls of Hogwarts, but never thought they truly existed, much less she would find them.

Picking up her scattered books and placing them in her book bag, Y/N decided to follow the hall and see where it would lead. It was a good thing her next hour was dedicated to free study and roaming time, else she would be subjected to the wrath of a professor watching her walk in late. The walls were dusty and covered in a light amount of cobwebs, but not nearly enough to be abandoned for years on end. Torches lit the way, and she suspected they were under a never-ending charm, as no smoke was even being produced. The passageway sharply turned right, and the back of a painting was waiting for her.

She pushed it open, only to smell fireworks and sweets fill her nose. While she wasn’t expecting to find anything, she certainly didn’t think there would be fizzing pops and heat buzzing through out the room.

“ _Look out!_ ” a voice cried.

Her reflexes were faster than her perception, as she ducked right into the path of a runaway fire work.

It bit right into her forehead, and she fell promptly backwards into the hall.

“ _Oi!_ Now you’ve done it, Fred!”

“I didn’t think anyone would be there!”

“Shouldn’t have gone a given Harry the map! Now we’ll never know if someone’s spying.”

Y/N stared at the ceiling in a daze, as her forehead began to throb and burn. She wasn’t quite sure how hard she was hit, but she began to see double as two freckled-figures appeared in her vision.

The one on the right looked concerned, and the one on the left looked frustrated. “Gone and killed the girl, you did!” said the left one.

“You said fire, so I fired!” said the right.

“Pardon me…” she managed, reached up to touch her newly formed bump. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Come on. Let’s get you up.” Two pairs of large hands grabbed her arms, and carefully yet quickly lifted her up. They helped her into the large room, where they had be firing, and sat her on a pillow on the ground.

Surrounding her were cauldrons and test tubes and an assortment of foods. There were trunks filled with gunpowder and half made fireworks, with confetti and colorful streamers coating the stone floors. Hanging above them were two hammocks, high above the ground where she assumed they napped or slept when our of their dorms.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” the one she assumed was Fred told her. “We didn’t think anyone knew about this place. Haven’t had a walk in ever.”

“But now we know that the wizzer can lock on to a target and never stray,” the identical one added.

“It’s okay.” She rubbed her forehead, and winced. That was gonna stay a bruise for a while. “I didn’t think I would be coming here today.”

“Where’d you think you were going?”

She opened her bag and pulled out her Herbology textbook. “Well, I was on my way to the greenhouses to study the effects of Wolfsbane picked under a New Moon instead of a full one, then would go see the creatures Hagrid has hidden in the woods. But on my way, I passed a wardrobe of some kind, and fell into it. The doors locked behind me and I found a hallway here.”

“Did you close the door all the way, George?” Fred asked his twin.

“I was positive I did. Unless you did something while I was following you,” George replied.

“That’s meant to lock when closed, until a magic word is spoken to it,” Fred explained. The two sat across from you, on their own seating pillows.

“Must’ve been open a crack for you to fall into it.” George grabbed his wand and swished it. All of the confetti and loose black dust swirled around the room, and flew into the open truck under the painting. The beakers and cauldrons lined themselves neatly along the wall, and the stacks of papers organized themselves neatly in a pile.

Y/N nodded, understandingly, and shook her head. “Where are my manners? I haven’t introduced myself.” She stuck out her hand and told them her name, as they both reached at the same time and shook her palm together.

“I’m Fred Weasley.”

“And I’m George Weasley.”

“It’s very nice to meet— wait a minute.” She took back her hand and glanced between the two. “No you’re not. You’ve told me each others names. It’s the other way around.”

They laughed. “Very perceptive for a Hufflepuff,” George said.

“You’re the only one to notice so quickly,” added Fred.

“Sometimes Mum can’t even tell us apart.”

“Probably because we spent that summer as each other.”

Y/N watched the two banter and joke, as she replaced her textbook into her bag. They noticed.

“Do you need to go to the hospital wing?” Fred questioned, staring at the growing bump on her forehead.

“We know a shortcut.” George stood and walked to a painting on the opposite wall, behind her, and said, “ _Gillywinks_.” The painting opened with a rusty creak, to reveal another passageway hidden behind it. “This way,” he said.

Fred helped her up, and followed single file behind George.

The painting slowly closed behind them, leaving the secret workshop until the next time they snuck around, and the hallway dimmed to the flicker flames of the torches.

“How did you find this place?” Y/N asked, running her hand across the stone.

“Found it first year thanks to this map we knocked from Filch,” George told her, adding extra light with the _lumos_ spell.

“Then Harry lost it the same year we lent it to him.”

“He never was the best when it came to going undercover.”

Y/N watched as George pushed on a brick at the end of the way, and the other stones rattled and folded out of the way. An archway formed, leading to a supplies closet, and unfolded back into a wall when they were all out.

“What year are you, Y/N?” Fred asked, as he went back to his brother’s side.

“I’m a fourth year,” she answered.

“We’re sixth years,” Fred said, nudging his twin. “Will be seventeen later this year.”

“I’ll turned 15 earlier this year,” she offered, unsure of where this exchange of information was heading.

“Well, we were attempting to enter the Triwizard tournament by using an aging potion—” 

“But Dumbledore really thought of everything,” George finished.

She smiled, remembering the rumors about the Weasley twins turning themselves old and grey. “Why are you telling me this?”

Fred and George exchanged an unreadable look. “Because we take advantage of every opportunity thrown our way.”

They threw their arms around her shoulders and they matched down the halls. A few students passing by stared with humor in their eyes, but Y/N barely noticed them.

“And we are very interested in the herbology research you’re conducting.”

She raised a brow, and it stung a little. “My research? I haven’t got any research, yet.”

“But you do have access to the forest and the greenhouse, and we may need some herbs and plants for our work,” George explained.

“By work, he means our fireworks,” Fred added.

They came to a stop outside the hospital wing doors, when they let go of her shoulders. “I’m not sure if this is a beneficial relationship. This sounds like extortion with extra steps,” she told them, turning to face them. “I may be a Hufflepuff, but I’m not stupid. If this is a way for me to do all the work with none of the reward, I think getting zapped in the forehead is enough for me.”

They both mocked hurt, clutching their hearts and heads. “How could you suggest such a thing?” Fred asked, leaning into his brother.

“I’m hurt, Y/N,” George continued, swaying back into Fred. “I thought we were destined to be friends.”

They both continued to “wail” sadly, slowly growing louder until the other students stopped and watched in annoyance. Y/N shook her hands quickly, and shushed them. “Okay! I’ll help you. But please don’t blow up. And don’t blow up the school. Or me.” Having to tell them this made her more wary. “Please promise me you won’t set anything important on fire.”

They immediately stopped their faux crying.

“Failure is the stepping stone to success,” George teased, opening the nursing door behind her.

“And what’s failure if not the knowledge of how not to do something?”

Madame Pomfrey met them before they made it very far, and stopped Y/N in her tracks. “Miss L/N, you should know better than to hang around such rowdy boys. Or any boys for that matter,” she told her, grabbing her cheeks and moving Y/N’s head around to get a good look.

“They didn’t do anything wrong,” she protested, her words a bit funny from Pomfrey’s hands squishing her cheeks. “I hit a doorframe.”

“A doorframe that also scorched your skin and covered you in powder?” Her question was rhetorical, and Y/N deemed it wise to keep quiet. The nurse turned her attention to the twins. “Hasn’t your mother warned you of the effects your little creations have on others?” she asked.

“We weren't positive she would get hit,” Fred answered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” added George. “We weren’t even sure she would be there.”

Madame Pomfrey pulled Y/N towards the cots, and had her sit down as she rummaged through her bottles. “Well, let’s hope you haven't ruined a bright mind today.”

She pushed the hair that was falling from the young witches bun out of her face, and started to softly wipe away the soot from her nose, cheeks, and forehead. Once her skin could shine through, Pomfrey dabbed some magical herbs on the inflamed area, before placing a plaster to cover it. “Nothing too serious that some ice and pressure can’t fix, but those magic burns are nothing to joke about. If you start developing a headache, or having fuzzy vision, make sure you come back straight to me.”

“Yes, Madame.”

She gave a loving ruffle and helped her stand. “And don’t be a stranger. I always enjoy the tea you make.”

Y/N nodded, and gave a heartwarming smile, before joining the Weasley’s once more.

“Sorry again, Y/N,” Fred offered, as they walked along side her.

“Yeah. We wouldn’t have ever intentionally hurt you.”

She brushed them off, and gave a genuine laugh. “It really is fine. Madame just worries a little too much.”

“Maybe a pasty would make you feel better?” George suggested. “Gryffindor common room always has the best sweets from Hogsmead.”

“Am I allowed in the common room?”

They gave an inquisitive look. “Why wouldn’t you be?” they asked, simultaneously.

“Well, no one outside of Hufflepuff has been in their dormitories. No one even knows how to get in.”

Fred rolled his eyes. “I’m sure the password isn't that hard to guess.”

“Or bribe out,” finished George.

“We don’t have passwords.”

They stopped dead in their tracks. “None!?” they demanded.

Y/N laughed, a little too hard that caused the passing students to stare. “Of course we haven’t. Guess that’s why I can go to your room but you could never go to mine.”

They watched as she triumphantly walked away, and quickly ran to catch up with her. “Now that I think about it,” George started, “Where’s the dorm located?”

“And what painting person do you talk to?”

“Do you have to offer something?”

“Yeah, like a trade?”

“Do you have to do a jig?”

“Who teaches you the secret handshake?”

They continued to bombard her with inquisitions, all of which she either couldn’t answer or had to negate. It wasn't long until Y/N was too busy laughing to notice she ran into someone.

“Not again,” the twins muttered.

As she was helped up by many different hands, she opened her eyes to see a very tall wizard standing in front of her. “Mr. Diggory!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t even see you there! I haven’t been able to give my official congratulations on becoming a Triwizard champion.”

He laughed and smoothed out his wool vest. “Thanks, Y/N. And you don't have to call me ‘Mr. Diggory’ you know? It reminds me of my father.”

“Well, if I start calling you ‘Cedric’ we might have to be friends.” She glanced behind him and formed a humorous expression. “And by the looks of it, plenty of pretty girls and boys want that position more than I care to fight for.” He turned sharply to see the hallway had halted a moment to stare at him, longingly. When they saw him look, they quickly turned back to walking or reading or gossiping with one another.

“Oh, well I hadn’t even noticed,” he said, sheepishly. “If you don’t want to be friends I understand.”

Y/N waved his words away. “Of course I do. But should you find me dead in the halls, know it’s because of your roguish good looks that got me killed.”

Cedric laughed, a bit nervous, as the twins glanced between each other and Y/N. “Um, well I would defend you. I mean, not _defend_ you. I know you’re very talent in DADA. But I mean stand up for you. Not that I feel like you _need_ anyone standing up for you—”

Y/N held up her hand. “Thank you. I understand what you meant.” She brushed some of the fly aways that fell in her eyes back onto her head.

Cedric squinted at her face. “What happened to your forehead?”

Forgetting about it, she touched the plaster. “Oh! Firework accident. I suppose my defense skills are only reliable in a class setting. But nothing I can’t toughen out.” She looked to her watch, and her eyes widened. “Good heavens! If I want time to sort out my affairs, we have to have those pastries ASAP.”

The three of them began to walk away. “Goodbye, _Cedric!_ See you at dinner!” she called to him, as they turned the corner.

Part of him regretted telling her that she could call him by his first name, because listening to the way it rolled of her tongue and through her teeth made his cheeks heat up unlike any before.

“Is he always like that?” George asked Y/N, as they climbed the stairs to the Fat Lady.

“Like what?”

“A bumbling git,” Fred retorted, chuckling.

Y/N opened her mouth and shook her head. “Don’t be rude! I’m sure he’s under a lot of stress from the games. Who knows what the first challenge is going to be.”

The twins looked a little apologetic, and quite pitiful at her cross nature.

“But I suppose he did seem a bit… _bumbly_ ,” she offered.

They grinned, and met looked to the painting. “Gryffin giggle-pocks.” And the frame swung open.

Before they could fully walk into the room, Y/N heard the shouting from the hall.

“Ron, you’re being _ridiculous!_ ” shouted a girl.

“He’s our friend and he _lied_ to us!” Ron shouted back. “He’s already the _‘Chosen One’_ but he just needs even more!”

“You _know_ Harry couldn’t have done this!”

“Who’s side are you _on_ , Hermione?”

“Will both of you shut it already?” another boy said, looking up from the paper he had. “You’ve been going at it for days. Some of us like the quiet!”

Hermione and Ron both let out a frustrate noise, before choosing seat opposite of the room from one another.

“Is it always like this?” Y/N asked, as the twins ushered her to the couch across from the fire place.

“Not usually.” Fred her handed a bowl full of jellybeans.

“Yeah, usually they’re yelling about something else.” George placed a platter of warm looking pastries on her lap. They both sat on either side of her, as she grabbed a bit from each.

She took a bit of the baked good first, and looked around the room. The walls were an auburn color, with gold figures hanging. Lion decor was in the carvings on the mantel, and bright red curtains framed the windows. “I like your room,” she complimented. “It’s very warm.”

“This fire is always going,” George told her, grabbing a handful of jellybeans. “And the tapestries keep the room hot.”

“I like the gold. It reminds me of the Quiddich field.”

“Is that how you get to your common room?” Fred joked, taking a bun.

“Of course. And you have to catch the bludgers before the grass opens up and swallows you whole.”

“I knew it.”

The yelling from earlier was replaced with laughter, and it wasn’t long until the mood of the room was happy and jovial.

Y/N grabbed a green jellybean from the bowl. “I like apple candies,” she said aloud, before popping one in her mouth. Immediately, her face curled on itself as she scrambled around to find a napkin. She spit it out, and made a disgusted sound.

Fred and George laughed loudly. “What flavor was that one?” they asked.

“I don’t know, but it tasted like vomit.”

They laughed another round.

“Should you really be inviting a Hufflepuff into the house?” a student asked. He stood in front of the fireplace, with his arms crossed over his red robes. He had a sour look on his face. “Much less an airhead like _her?_ ”

Fred and George stopped laughing. “What’d you say?” George demanded, keeping his voice level but deadly.

“I recon she’s better than you at everything, Marty,” Fred added.

“Last I checked you still struggle with transfiguration.”

“We should turn you into a doorknob. Maybe you’d have more use then.”

Marty looked more nervous than he did a moment ago, and placed his hands at his side. “What’s she doing for you so you can act as her bodyguards, eh?”

“Better watch yourself, mate.”

“I’m not scared of you.”

“What’s going on here?” Hermione and Ron appeared behind the sofa, staring at Marty.

Y/N looked around her, and sunk further into her seat.

Marty saw that he had four wizards against him, and scoffed. “Whatever. It’s not worth my time.” He walked away, briskly up the stairs to his room.

“Such a codfish,” Ron mumbled, watching as he left.

“Not to sound rude,” Hermione said, moving to the arm chair near the couch. “But why _are_ you here?”

Y/N swallowed her bite of the sweet bun. “Sweetie apology for a firework accident.”

“Didn’t mum tell you two to knock it off?” Ron asked.

“She said, _‘No creations in the house.’_ ”

“But we’re not in the house.”

Y/N giggled and placed the platter on the table in front of her. “Is this your brother?” she asked the twins.

“Our youngest brother.” Fred reached behind him and ruffled Ron’s hair.

“And our darling-est sibling!” George blew a kiss, that made Ron roll his eyes.

He sat down at the other chair, opposite of Hermione. “You’re mental.”

Y/N extended her hand. “I’m Y/N L/N. You must be a Mr. Weasley?”

“Mister?” Ron asked, as he shook her hand.

“That’s what she calls everyone,” George explained, wrapping his arm around the back of the chair.

“‘Cept her friends, of course.” Fred high-fived his brother.

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it.

“Didn’t you mention Y/N before, Ron?” George asked, getting a sly grin on his face.

Ron noticed, and quickly shook his head. “No no.”

“Now that you mention it Georgie, I think he did,” Fred continued.

“Said something about how she was talented in her spellwork.”

“For a Hufflepuff.”

Y/N lifted her brows as her eyes widened. Ron shook his head, more ardently. “I didn't say that. The compliment stopped at your spellwork.”

“Oh, so it was a compliment?” Fred teased.

Ron’s face went pink, and he remained silent.

Turning her attention to Hermione, she stuck out her hand and repeated her greeting.

“Hermione Granger,” she replied. “And you can call me Hermione. I’m most interested in your wandmanship. Perhaps we could study sometime.”

“Study?” Y/N looked at her watch and gasped. “I’m meant to meet Hagrid in ten minutes, and I haven’t even gathered the herbs to bring.”

“We can help you get them,” George said, as Fred nodded.

“Don’t you two have Potions?” Ron grumbled, sitting up.

“Our talents lie _outside_ of the academic field,” Fred tutted. “I wouldn't go lecturing people on their Potions grades if I were you.”

Y/N stood up, and the Weasley’s followed suit. “Are you coming along, Mr. Weasley?” she asked Ron.

“Yeah… um I haven’t seen Hagrid in a while. Good friend, Hagrid.”

She laughed, warmly. “Okay. I just need to stop by the green house to get some mugwort, basil, and see if I can find any lavender.”

She got into a brisk pace towards the painting, when it opened suddenly. Luckily, having seen a similar incident twice already, the twins grabbed her shoulders to stop her from hitting the enterer head on.

A face that she instantly recognized was in front of her. “Oh, hello!” she greeted, sticking her hand out. “You must be Mr. Potter. I’m Y/N L/N.”

He was taken aback, but had enough clarity to shoot Ron a nasty look. “Hi. Oh, um.” He shook her hand, and tried to figure out what he wanted to say first. “You can call me Harry, by the way.”

“She only calls her friends by their first names, Harry,” Fred informed him, resting his elbow on her head.

“Isn’t that right, _Mr. Weasley?_ ” George asked his brother, who looked to be in a great foul mood.

“Oh, well we can be friends then, I suppose,” he told her. He looked at her robes and forehead, before looking to the twins. “What hap—”

George interrupted him. “Fireworks.”

“Hospital.”

“Pastries.”

“To Hagrids.”

“After greenhouse.”

“Any questions?”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” George continued, as Y/N shooed away Fred’s arm. “We’re not fraternizing with the enemy or anything. Cedric could hardly keep his tongue in his mouth when he saw Y/N today.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “He did not. He’s just nervous about the first match, I’m sure.”

“Not the only thing he’s nervous about.”

“Oh hush. Cedric has no interest in me.” She smiled, and rubbed her forehead softly. “Sorry, Harry, but we really must be going. But I want to officially congratulate you on becoming a champion.”

“Sure he’d love that,” Ron grumbled.

Harry glared at him.

“Weasley,” Y/N said, turning her attention. “I’m sure you feel very betrayed at the thought that Harry cheated his way into the cup, but I’m sure you know that deep down these feelings of resentment lie elsewhere, and Harry is the easiest person to place them on. I’m not asking you to leave these feelings behind, but please don’t project them while I’m trying to tend to my own business. If you have something to say to Harry, please say it when it doesn’t interrupt my conversation with him.” She whipped back, and stuck her hand out once more. “I look forward to seeing you compete, and perhaps any further encounters we may have. Good morning!” With her final word, she gracefully brushed past him and down the stairs of the hall.

Fred and George lingered to stare between Harry and Ron, before they each slapped them on the backs. “She’s right,” Fred told them.

“No use fighting,” George finished.

Ron looked like he was about to say something, but Harry pushed past him to enter the room. As he did, he opened and closed the hand he had used to shake Y/N’s. It was soft. Ron looked at his brothers, who gave a knowing look.

“What? Pfft. She wasn’t— I’m not… _You_ guys are insecure!”

“Well she never said _that_.”

“Projecting, are we?”

When they caught up with her, she was opened the door to enter the green house, with Ron not too far behind them. She rushed in and began clipping what she needed into little drawstring bags she had pulled from her bag. The boys helped by gathering the mugwort, to which she thanked them.

She slowed down, and took extra care into clipping the lavender and carefully placing the buds in the bag. As she did so, the green house doors opened, and Neville walked in.

“Y/N! I was looking for you!” he exclaimed. He stopped short of her side, when he realized three more people were in there with them.

“Good morning, Neville,” she returned, looking up from the potted plant. “I thought I returned your book to you. Is there something else you need.”

“Oh, I just wanted to show you this new book I got. It’s on different magical plants and herbs. I think its a new edition and everything.” He held up the book for her to see, and she smiled.

“That looks lovely. Where did you get it? Did your grandmother send it to you? I thought you birthday passed.”

“Professor Moody gave it to me. As an apology gift of some sorts.”

He flipped through some of the pages, and showed the detailed illustrations of the plants and the neat print of the descriptions next to them.

“That’s amazing, Neville. And an apology? Did he do something?”

Neville became silent, and his grin wavered a bit. “Nothing serious, really. I’m just happy I got this book. I haven’t been able to put it down.”

“It looks amazing. I would love to hear what it’s about the next time we have a study period together.” She put away her shears and placed both them and the bag of herbs into her satchel. “I have to go to Hagrid’s now, but don’t we study together Thursday?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

She grinned broadly, and waved. “Wonderful. Good morning, Neville.”

The visit to Hagrid’s was peaceful and despite the jokes being thrown between Fred and George. Hagrid uses the basil in his stew, and used the lavender and mugwort to freshen up the energy in his home. Ron and him shared their own interesting looks between each other, but never said anything that involved the games, the champions, or Harry.

When the hour was up, and dinner was arriving soon, the four of them returned to the castle and entered the dining hall.

Y/N went to sit at her table, at the end where it was mostly empty, when Fred and George sat down next to her.

“What are you doing sitting alone?” Fred asked.

“Do we need to hex some Puffs for you?”

She rolled her eyes, and placed her bag underneath her seat. “Of course not. It’s just easier to eat alone.”

“Then we are about to make your life very difficult,” Fred told her.

Overhearing from a table away, Neville saw as Y/N bantered with the Weasley twins, filling her plate as they reached over and around her to steal her food. Mustering up whatever courage that landed him in his house, he stood up and joined.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked her, as he set his plate down across from her.

“Never, Neville. You’re just in time for Fred and George get a pie to the face.”

A smile crept to his face, and the boys shouted.

Soon, Harry, Hermione, and Ron joined as well. While Harry and Ron sat as far away from each other as they could, they couldn't hide their grins as everyone joked together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As will be explained in the next chapter, this is a demo chapter for the story I wanted to create, but has since been revised and changed to fit easier into my writing abilities.


	2. Author’s Note

Hi there, Readers! I decided on a new idea that would follow the same premise as my original story line, but with a few tweaks. 

Due to the fact that I was not the first wave generation to read the Harry Potter books or consume the movies/media, writing the humorous dialogue was proving difficult since I have very “Gen Z” humor and experiences. I found it nearly impossible to make a believable Muggle character in the 80’s and 90’s because of this. 

So keeping the same ideas of following the plot, I decided to have Y/N have travelled back in time. Why? It is much easier to write and I’ll be able to get chapters out much easier and quickly. I also think a lot of “plot holes” can be poked at from a laughable lenses, along with a sarcastic dialogue. 

Rather than scrap the first chapter and leave the few readers I already have, I’m going to rename the first chapter as a “demo chapter” and rewrite it with this new plot. I also want to make sure you are all updated on this, as nothing would hurt more as a reader than to have a book that can never finish. 

I hope all of this makes sense, and I should be posting the revision sometimes time in the very near future. 

Thank you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, thank you to the people who gave encouraging words. Nothing makes an author more happy than comments and feedback. Thank you again.


	3. The Witch in the Wardrobe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gen Z _____ meets the gang.

There are many things in the world that _____ knew to be absolutely certain, and many things she knew that were absolutely not. For instance, hot chocolate could always cure a broken heart, the soft steps of leaves will always awaken your soul, and sometimes what is not known is best left that way. It was in this that _____ found comfort. When life was uncertain, dark, and deceiving, she could rely on the simple truth that humans will not know everything, and that the unknown was ordinary in disguise.

However, this simple truth began to fade when the search for those mysteries became her studious career. A week before her 15th birthday, _____ found herself feeling tingly. Like when your foot falls asleep and it’s just waking up. Except, with every ripple under her skin, with every static shift, a piece of her began to disappear. Unsure and unable to call out, _____ drifted into the wind, and out her bedroom window.

When she regained consciousness, and regained shape, she found herself in the middle of London. A station, to be exact, where a man wearing funny looking clothes and a pointy hat was guiding her. Somehow, she had a cart with a trunk and other bags, along with an owl, under her fingers. After many attempts to ask the man who he was and where she was and _‘What the fuck was going on?’_ the man huffed and replied with, “Dumbledore sent me to guide you to Hogwarts since you were in an orphanage. And watch your language, young lady. The professors won’t be having any of that nonsense.”

_____ was made apparent of three things whilst being pushed through a magic wall and onto another magic train station. First, she was some sort of magic-person on her way to a magic school in a magic world. Second, she had either switched places with someone and their life, or the universe filled in the fraying ends with minimal effort on her existence. And third, she was stuck there until further notice, with little money and no family.

Shock got the better of her for the majority of the train ride. She sat down in a compartment, and locked it to stop other children and teenagers from joining her. She pulled down all of the shades and curtains, and she cried tears of sadness that she hadn’t really fully processed. When the older lady passed by, shouting, “Anything from the trolley, dears?” _____ stayed put. She peaked to see the other students pay with little coins, and wondered if her new reality had any of those to her name.

When she got off the train, and stared out at the castle in the distance, haloed by moonlight, a great big man stood in front of her. He was quite tall, perhaps 10 feet tall if she was generous enough, and wide and fluffy. He had a scraggly beard and hair, the seemed to mix together around his cheerful face, and twinkling eyes.

“Ya must be _____,” said to her, puffing out his belly. “Dumbledore asked me to see ya to the hall myself. I’m ‘agrid.” He extended his large hand.

She shook it, and wonder when the appropriate time to tell him that she was probably in the middle of a coma dream was. “It’s nice to meet you,” she managed, swallowing her previous bouts of sobs from the train.

He must've noticed, because her withdrew his hand and gave a soft smile. “Well, going to a ‘ole new country and a ‘ole new world must be pretty rough— ‘specially for someone in the middle their education. But ‘ogwarts will prove to be a perfect ‘ome away from ‘ome.”

_____ stared down at the pavement, as the students flocked passed her. “I don’t have a home.”

Unsure of how to console her, Hagrid wrapped her in an awkward hug. “Well, I didn’t really ‘ave a ‘ome when I started. And I turned out _pretty_ well, if I do say so myself.”

She gave a weak chuckle into his shirt, which smelled like warm stew and a fresh fire. “I usually don’t cry.” An idiotic attempt to manage the situation, as finding your whole life was gone was a very good reason to cry. “I guess I’m just nervous.”

Hagrid let go and let out a joyous chortle. “Ah, that’s right! Ye ‘aven’t been sorted yet! Well, not to worry! I’m sure ye’ll make any ‘ouse a ‘appy one.”

“Right… the sorting.” _What the fuck was a ‘sorting?’_

Hard explained that rather than ride with the first years on the boats, as he did every year, he would walk with her to get her some plain robes and explain a bit of magic.

“Now, Professor Dumbledore told us that ye don’t know any magic?”

“That’s correct, sir.”

“Well, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I think ye’ll pick up magic just fine. Might need a bit of tutoring here and there, ‘specially in charms, but the other subjects shouldn’t cause ye too much pain.”

“I am pretty good at math,” she offered.

Hagrid paused in his walking, and gave a wide expression. “Wow, they really left ye in the Muggle world much too long.”

She frowned. _Did witches and wizards not need math?_ She supposed that arithmetic and algebra wasn't strictly needed in every day life, but surely some schools taught it. They had a money system. _How did they calculate interest and mortgages? Did they even have mortgages? How did wizard economy function? Is math something only the people in that specific field learned?_

“This is going to be very difficult.”

When inside the castle, the air suddenly warmed and softened. There was a pile for trunks and animals stacked near the entrance, as a man with a fluffy cat looked at it distastefully. Suits of armor and burning torches lined the halls as Hagrid led you down to an empty classroom.

He set your things down and handed her a folded pair of black clothing.

“Most kids yer size already ‘ave their ‘ouses on their uniforms. So fer now, just wear some of yer regular clothes and the black robes over ‘em.” He patted her on the head. “And when yer done, meet me outside the Great Hall doors. Dumbledore’s gonna announce your arrival and we’ll get ye sorted and everything.”

“In front of all those people?” she asked, suddenly sweating bullets down her back.

“Don’t ye worry ‘bout them. Ye’ll do just fine!” On that final word, he exited out of the room to allow her privacy to change.

Swallowing her fear of the general public, and every form of public displays, she opened her trunk and was pleasantly surprised to find that her normal clothing was still about the same. She couldn't help but notice that no one that passed her by was wearing skinny jeans or mini skirts, and wondered if wizards had a modesty thing.

She pulled out a dark brown plaid skirt, with pleats and a high-waisted band, a white satin tank-top, tight fishnet stockings, and a pair of plain black flats. She quickly dressed and put on the robe. She left it unbuttoned, and looked to find a mirror. Her eyes were a bit puffy from the crying, and she quickly grabbed some of her make up to touch it up. Nothing too much, as she didn't want to keep Hagrid waiting, and then quickly fixed her hair. She found her wand, or at least what looked like a wand, and wove it through the holes in her stocking, high on her thigh.

“You can do this, _____,” she told herself. “If you’re magic here, then maybe you can find a way to go home.”

She gave herself one last nod, before leaving to find Hagrid outside of the Great Hall.

“Ye look beautiful!” he said. “See? Nothing to worry about. I’m sure ye’ll ‘ave ‘alf this school after ye by the end of the week.” His words did make her feel better, at least the part saying her looked fine. “Now, it’s kind of a strange year to be joining the school, as there’s this big competition happening. We have two other schools here as guests, so if some seem out of place it’s because they are.”

She nodded, trying to follow along with all of the information handed to her.

“So, I’m gonna go in there, they’ll announce everything, and then ye’ll get yer sorting. Just open the doors when you hear Dumbledore say somethin’ like ‘And welcoming our new student.’ Got it?”

She nodded again, her stomach filling with rocks once more.

“Ye’ll do great, Miss _____.”

“Thanks, sir.”

Hagrid smiled and bristled up a bit. “Yer becoming my favorite student already.”

He left down the hall, most likely entering from a back room, and _____ stood there and twiddled her thumbs. She heard quite the noise. The announcement of the tournament, and the booing followed by the fact they would have to be 17 to enter. She found it reasonable, until she heard the phrase _‘only adults’_ which made her question more.

Finally, she heard a voice through the door say, “We have a transfer student all the way from America. She journeyed very far to be with us, so let’s give her a warm welcome as she is sorted for the first time. _____ _____!”

Playing whatever power jam she could think of to help swallow her nerves, _____ pushed open the doors and began to walk through. The Great Hall had glowing candles floating in thin air, with a cloudy sky instead of a ceiling. Four long tables were parallel to the walk way, filled with students of all ages.

At the end of the aisle, a man with a long white beard and purple robes stood at a podium, with an owl carving in it. He was clapping with a warm smile, and the students followed. She heard the whispers and the not-so-quiet whispers among them, but was too focused on trying not to trip to really hear what they were saying.

The man, to be assumed Dumbledore, waved his wand and the podium moved away. A woman in green robes and witches hat carried a stool and a dusty looking cap into the center of the rise. She motioned for her to sit up on the chair.

The hat was placed on her head, and started to talk.

_“Well well well,”_ the hat said. She bit her tongue as to not scream. “ _Very_ interesting here. Never in my centuries of sorting have I seen the like of this mind. You belong here, _yes you do_ , but you will do greater than any witch before you. I suspect you already have.

“You would do great in Slytherin. _Very_ ambitious. Never one to give up on your goal. Bravery and chivalry? Perhaps Gryffindor is your home. Home of many greats. A sharp wit, and _strong_ intelligence. Ravenclaw would strengthen that in no time. Or the kindness and strength of a Hufflepuff. _Yes yes_. Had I not been expecting you, I would’ve sat here for quiet a time. Not many times we see a mind so full that I have to wait to think.”

_Is he really saying all of this out-loud?_

“Hmm. Perhaps your humble attitude better suits you? A fine young lady who will achieve great but will also achieve the _good_. Yes, I should say so. Must be… _HUFFLEPUFF!_ ”

“The fuck is a Hufflepuff?” she said, as the hall erupted with cheers.

~~

_____ would go to excel at classes, challenging Hermione in her ability to climb the standard. When asked how that was possible, she replied, “It’s a _magic_ school and my homework is _magic_. Why aren't you waking up at 6 a.m. to do work? And the pictures _talk_ to you and the books _read_ for you if you ask politely. Everyone’s out of their _goddamn mind_ when they complain about the workload.”

Yes, she experienced many bullying attempts that were often thwarted due to her quick nature.

“Nice robes, _____,” a Ravenclaw shouted, as she passed him in the courtyard. “Get them from the trash?”

“Same place you got your dick, Greg. Next time let’s save space and carpool.”

And, of course, found herself often under the mix of approval and distain from Professor McGonagall.

“Miss _____, why did you get his pants on fire?”

“He was peeping in the girls bathroom. If he wants to get his rocks off he can enjoy a different burning sensation.”

“Mm, I see… have a biscuit.”

Yes yes, it seemed things were going quite well for _____. At least, to the other students.

To start off, it must be known that the class structure of the wizarding world is divided based on blood relations to magic. Purebloods, while not explicitly said by society, were known as the best of the witches and wizards. Not muggle-blood in their veins, and no need to hide their family in the muggle world. Next were the Half-bloods. While it was unknown whether having a magical mum or dad was better or worse, they were seen equal on the scale of magic. And the last, and most controversial of bloodlines- are the Muggle-born students. Many protests, wars, and discrimination was towards muggle-born witches and wizards, even in the 20th century. No one likes to admit the obvious tipped scale, but Y/N certainly noticed in the subtlest of ways.

And that is where we begin.

Well, we begin in a wardrobe.

Thanks to her birth in the muggle world, _____ was able to read many books about fantasy and magic when it was nothing but a story. One of her more favorite children's novels were that of _‘The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.’_ However, she never thought she would remember such book by physically being locked in a cupboard, only to find the back was a faux door leading to a secret tunnel.

It was a month or so into her fourth year at Hogwarts, and the new drama of _‘Harry and friends’_ had begun to arise. _____ was focusing on her own studies in magic and her own problems; too much so to be concerned with Harry’s name being selected. She had started a reputation that she read constantly, and barely batted an eye at the student body. When her knees hit the wardrobe floor, she hadn’t been paying attention enough to notice if someone had accidentally bumped her, or if she’d been shoved purposefully. Either way, someone locked the doors after.

The passage way that opened before her was a dimly lit hall, with enough room for her to stand and walk comfortably down. She had heard of secret passageways hidden through the walls of Hogwarts, but never thought they truly existed, much less she would find them.

Picking up her scattered books and placing them in her book bag, _____ decided to follow the hall and see where it would lead. It was a good thing her next hour was dedicated to free study and roaming time, else she would be subjected to the wrath of a professor watching her walk in late. The walls were dusty and covered in a light amount of cobwebs, but not nearly enough to be abandoned for years on end. Torches lit the way, and she suspected they were under a never-ending charm, as no smoke was even being produced. The passageway sharply turned right, and the back of a painting was waiting for her.

She pushed it open, only to smell fireworks and sweets fill her nose. While she wasn’t expecting to find anything, she certainly didn’t think there would be fizzing pops and heat buzzing through out the room.

“ _Look out!_ ” a voice cried.

Her reflexes were faster than her perception, as she ducked right into the path of a runaway fire work.

It bit right into her forehead, and she fell promptly backwards into the hall. “ _Son of a bitch!_ ”

“ _Oi!_ Now you’ve done it, Fred!”

“I didn’t think anyone would be there!”

“Shouldn’t have gone a given Harry the map! Now we’ll never know if someone’s spying.”

_____ stared at the ceiling in a daze, as her forehead began to throb and burn. She wasn’t quite sure how hard she was hit, but she began to see double as two freckled-figures appeared in her vision.

The one on the right looked concerned, and the one on the left looked frustrated. “Gone and killed the girl, you did!” said the left one.

“You said fire, so I fired!” said the right.

“Pardon me…” she managed sarcastically, reaching up to touch her newly formed bump. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Come on. Let’s get you up.” Two pairs of large hands grabbed her arms, and carefully yet quickly lifted her up. They helped her into the large room, where they had be firing, and sat her on a pillow on the ground.

Surrounding her were cauldrons and test tubes and an assortment of foods. There were trunks filled with gunpowder and half made fireworks, with confetti and colorful streamers coating the stone floors. Hanging above them were two hammocks, high above the ground where she assumed they napped or slept when our of their dorms.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” the one she assumed was Fred told her. “We didn’t think anyone knew about this place. Haven’t had a walk in ever.”

“But now we know that the _wizzer_ can lock on to a target and never stray,” the identical one added.

“It’s okay.” She rubbed her forehead, and winced. That was gonna stay a bruise for a while. “I didn’t think I would be coming here today.”

“Where’d you think you were going?”

She opened her bag and pulled out her Herbology textbook. “Well, I was on my way to the greenhouses to study the effects of Wolfsbane picked under a New Moon instead of a full one, then would go see the creatures Hagrid has hidden in the woods. But on my way, I passed a wardrobe of some kind, and fell into it. The doors locked behind me and I found a hallway here.”

“Did you close the door all the way, George?” Fred asked his twin.

“I was positive I did. Unless you did something while I was following you,” George replied.

“That’s meant to lock when closed, until a magic word is spoken to it,” Fred explained. The two sat across from you, on their own seating pillows.

“Must’ve been open a crack for you to fall into it.” George grabbed his wand and swished it. All of the confetti and loose black dust swirled around the room, and flew into the open truck under the painting. The beakers and cauldrons lined themselves neatly along the wall, and the stacks of papers organized themselves neatly in a pile.

_____ nodded, wondering how fool-proof that arrangement was, and shook her head. “Where are my manners? I haven’t introduced myself.” She stuck out her hand and told them her name, as they both reached at the same time and shook her palm together.

“I’m Fred Weasley.”

“And I’m George Weasley.”

“It’s very nice to meet— wait a minute.” She took back her hand and glanced between the two. “No you’re not. You’ve told me each others names. It’s the other way around.”

They laughed. “Very perceptive for a Hufflepuff,” George said.

“You’re the only one to notice so quickly,” added Fred.

“Sometimes Mum can’t even tell us apart.”

“Probably because we spent that summer as each other.”

_____ watched the two banter and joke, as she replaced her textbook into her bag. She tried to ignore that comment she had heard so much recently, _‘for a Hufflepuff.’_ They noticed.

“Do you need to go to the hospital wing?” Fred questioned, staring at the growing bump on her forehead.

“We know a shortcut.” George stood and walked to a painting on the opposite wall, behind her, and said, “ _Gillywinks_.” The painting opened with a rusty creak, to reveal another passageway hidden behind it. “This way,” he said.

Fred helped her up, and followed single file behind George.

The painting slowly closed behind them, leaving the secret workshop until the next time they snuck around, and the hallway dimmed to the flicker flames of the torches.

“How did you find this place?” _____ asked, running her hand across the stone. She would definitely remember it for future escapes in the night.

“Found it first year thanks to this map we knocked from Filch,” George told her, adding extra light with the _lumos_ spell.

“Then Harry lost it the same year we lent it to him.”

“He never was the best when it came to going undercover.”

_____ watched as George pushed on a brick at the end of the way, and the other stones rattled and folded out of the way. An archway formed, leading to a supplies closet, and unfolded back into a wall when they were all out.

“What year are you, again, _____?” Fred asked, as he went back to his brother’s side.

“I’m a fourth year,” she answered.

“We’re sixth years,” Fred said, nudging his twin. “Will be seventeen later this year.”

“I turned 15 a few weeks ago,” she offered, unsure of where this exchange of information was heading.

“Well, we were attempting to enter the Triwizard tournament by using an aging potion—” 

“But Dumbledore really thought of everything,” George finished.

She smiled, remembering the rumors about the Weasley twins turning themselves old and grey. “Why are you telling me this?”

Fred and George exchanged an unreadable look. “Because we take advantage of every opportunity thrown our way.”

They threw their arms around her shoulders and they matched down the halls. A few students passing by stared with humor in their eyes, but _____ barely noticed them.

“And we are very interested in the herbology research you’re conducting.”

She raised a brow, and it stung a little. “My research? I haven’t got any research, yet.”

“But you do have access to the forest and the greenhouse, and we may need some herbs and plants for our work,” George explained.

“By work, he means our fireworks,” Fred added.

They came to a stop outside the hospital wing doors, when they let go of her shoulders. “I’m not sure if this is a beneficial relationship. This sounds like extortion with extra steps,” she told them, turning to face them. “I may be a “Hufflepuff”, but I’m not stupid. If this is a way for me to do all the work with none of the reward, I think getting zapped in the forehead is enough for me.”

They both mocked hurt, clutching their hearts and heads. “How could you suggest such a thing?” Fred asked, leaning into his brother.

“I’m hurt, _____,” George continued, swaying back into Fred. “I thought we were destined to be friends.”

They both continued to “wail” sadly, slowly growing louder until the other students stopped and watched in annoyance. Y/N shook her hands quickly, and shushed them. “Okay! I’ll help you. But please don’t blow up. And don’t blow up the school. Or me.” Having to tell them this made her more wary. “Please promise me you won’t set anything important on fire.”

They immediately stopped their faux crying.

“Failure is the stepping stone to success,” George teased, opening the nursing door behind her.

“And what’s failure if not the knowledge of how not to do something?”

Madame Pomfrey met them before they made it very far, and stopped_____ in her tracks. “Miss _____, you should know better than to hang around such rowdy boys. Or any boys for that matter,” she told her, grabbing her cheeks and moving _____’s head around to get a good look.

“They didn’t do anything wrong,” she protested, her words a bit funny from Pomfrey’s hands squishing her cheeks. “I hit a doorframe.”

“A doorframe that also scorched your skin and covered you in powder?” Her question was rhetorical, and _____ deemed it wise to keep quiet. The nurse turned her attention to the twins. “Hasn’t your mother warned you of the effects your little creations have on others?” she asked.

“We weren't positive she would get hit,” Fred answered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah,” added George. “We weren’t even sure she would be there.”

Madame Pomfrey pulled _____ towards the cots, and had her sit down as she rummaged through her bottles. “Well, let’s hope you haven't ruined a bright mind today.”

She pushed the hair that was falling from the young witches bun out of her face, and started to softly wipe away the soot from her nose, cheeks, and forehead. Once her skin could shine through, Pomfrey dabbed some magical herbs on the inflamed area, before placing a plaster to cover it. “Nothing too serious that some ice and pressure can’t fix, but those magic burns are nothing to joke about. If you start developing a headache, or having fuzzy vision, make sure you come back straight to me.”

“Yes, Madame.”

She gave a loving ruffle and helped her stand. “And don’t be a stranger. I always enjoy the tea you make.”

_____ nodded, and gave a heartwarming smile, before joining the Weasley’s once more.

“Sorry again, _____,” Fred offered, as they walked along side her.

“Yeah. We wouldn’t have ever intentionally hurt you.”

She brushed them off, and gave a genuine laugh. “It really is fine. Madame just worries a little too much.”

“Maybe a pasty would make you feel better?” George suggested. “Gryffindor common room always has the best sweets from Hogsmead.”

“Am I allowed in the common room?”

They gave an inquisitive look. “Why wouldn’t you be?” they asked, simultaneously.

“Well, no one outside of Hufflepuff has been in their dormitories. No one even knows how to get in.”

Fred rolled his eyes. “I’m sure the password isn't that hard to guess.”

“Or bribe out,” finished George.

“We don’t have passwords.”

They stopped dead in their tracks. “None!?” they demanded.

_____ laughed, a little too hard that caused the passing students to stare. “Of course we haven’t. Guess that’s why I can go to your room but you could never go to mine.”

They watched as she triumphantly walked away, and quickly ran to catch up with her. “Now that I think about it,” George started, “Where’s the dorm located?”

“And what painting person do you talk to?”

“Do you have to offer something?”

“Yeah, like a trade?”

“Do you have to do a jig?”

“Who teaches you the secret handshake?”

They continued to bombard her with inquisitions, all of which she either couldn’t answer or had to negate. It wasn't long until _____ was too busy laughing to notice she ran into someone.

“Not again,” the twins muttered.

“Don’t _‘Not again_ ’ me! You hit me with a whizzing majig.” As she was helped up by many different hands, she opened her eyes to see a very tall wizard standing in front of her. “Cedric!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t even see you there! I haven’t been able to give my official congratulations on becoming a Triwizard champion.”

He laughed and smoothed out his wool vest. “Thanks, _____.” He looked between the twins and her. “Am I interrupting something?”

She shrugged. “Just a kidnapping turned barter. By the looks of your fan club, I think an assassination attempt isn't too far behind.” He turned sharply to see the hallway had halted a moment to stare at him, longingly. When they saw him look, they quickly turned back to walking or reading or gossiping with one another.

“Oh, well I hadn’t even noticed,” he said, sheepishly. “If you don’t want to be friends I understand.”

_____ waved his words away. “Of course I do. But should you find me dead in the halls, know it’s because of your roguish good looks that got me killed.”

Cedric laughed, a bit nervous, as the twins glanced between each other and _____. “Um, well I would defend you. I mean, not _defend_ you. I know you’re very talent in DADA. But I mean stand up for you. Not that I feel like you _need_ anyone standing up for you—”

_____ held up her hand. “Thank you. I understand what you meant.” She brushed some of the fly aways that fell in her eyes back onto her head.

Cedric squinted at her face. “What happened to your forehead?”

Forgetting about it, she touched the plaster. “Oh! Firework accident. I suppose my defense skills are only reliable in a class setting. But nothing I can’t toughen out.” She looked to her watch, and her eyes widened. “Jesus Christ—”

“Who?”

“—we need to be heading off for those desserts. I need to see Hagrid soon.”

The three of them began to walk away. “Goodbye, _Cedric!_ See you at dinner!” she called to him, as they turned the corner.

Cedric ignored the way the twins seemingly pushed her along, and was infatuated with the way his name sounded blinding off of his tongue.

“Is he always like that?” George asked _____, as they climbed the stairs to the Fat Lady.

“Like what?”

“A bumbling git,” Fred retorted, chuckling.

Y/N opened her mouth and shook her head. “Like you two are the peak of suave manners! I’m sure he’s under a lot of stress from the games. Who knows what the first challenge is going to be.”

The twins looked a little apologetic, and quite pitiful at her cross nature.

“But I suppose he did seem a bit… _bumbly_ ,” she offered.

They grinned, and met looked to the painting. “Gryffin giggle-pocks.” And the frame swung open.

Before they could fully walk into the room, Y/N heard the shouting from the hall.

“Ron, you’re being _ridiculous!_ ” shouted a girl.

“He’s our friend and he _lied_ to us!” Ron shouted back. “He’s already the _‘Chosen One’_ but he just needs even more!”

“You _know_ Harry couldn’t have done this!”

“Who’s side are you _on_ , Hermione?”

“Will both of you shut it already?” another boy said, looking up from the paper he had. “You’ve been going at it for days. Some of us like the quiet!”

Hermione and Ron both let out a frustrate noise, before choosing seat opposite of the room from one another.

“Is it always like this?” _____ asked, as the twins ushered her to the couch across from the fire place.

“Not usually.” Fred her handed a bowl full of jellybeans.

“Yeah, usually they’re yelling about something else.” George placed a platter of warm looking pastries on her lap. They both sat on either side of her, as she grabbed a bit from each.

“Do they like each other, or something? The sexual tension is _very_ strong.”

“We think so.”

She took a bit of the baked good first, and looked around the room. The walls were an auburn color, with gold figures hanging. Lion decor was in the carvings on the mantel, and bright red curtains framed the windows. “I like your room,” she complimented. “It’s very warm.”

“This fire is always going,” George told her, grabbing a handful of jellybeans. “And the tapestries keep the room hot.”

“I like the gold. It reminds me of the Quiddich field.”

“Is that how you get to your common room?” Fred joked, taking a bun.

“Of course. And you have to catch the bludgers before the grass opens up and swallows you whole.”

“I knew it.”

The yelling from earlier was replaced with laughter, and it wasn’t long until the mood of the room was happy and jovial.

_____ grabbed a green jellybean from the bowl. “I like apple candies,” she said aloud, before popping one in her mouth. Immediately, her face curled on itself as she scrambled around to find a napkin. She spit it out, and made a disgusted sound.

Fred and George laughed loudly. “What flavor was that one?” they asked.

“I don’t know, but it tasted like vomit.”

They laughed another round.

“God, wizard stuff _sucks_ sometimes.”

“Should you really be inviting a Hufflepuff into the house?” a student asked. He stood in front of the fireplace, with his arms crossed over his red robes. He had a sour look on his face. “Much less an airhead like _her?_ ”

Fred and George stopped laughing. “What’d you say?” George demanded, keeping his voice level but deadly.

“I recon she’s better than you at everything, Marty,” Fred added.

“Last I checked you still struggle with transfiguration.”

“We should turn you into a doorknob. Maybe you’d have more use then.”

Marty looked more nervous than he did a moment ago, and placed his hands at his side. “What’s she doing for you so you can act as her bodyguards, eh?”

“Better watch yourself, mate.”

“I’m not scared of you.”

“What’s going on here?” Hermione and Ron appeared behind the sofa, staring at Marty.

_____ looked around her, and raised her brows. She hadn't even been able to get a single word in wit how fast that were stopping him from talking. 

Marty saw that he had four wizards against him, and scoffed. “Whatever. It’s not worth my time.” He walked away, briskly up the stairs to his room.

“Such a codfish,” Ron mumbled, watching as he left.

“Not to sound rude,” Hermione said, moving to the arm chair near the couch. “But why _are_ you here?”

_____ swallowed her bite of the sweet bun. “Sweetie apology for a firework accident.”

“Didn’t mum tell you two to knock it off?” Ron asked.

“She said, _‘No creations in the house.’_ ”

“But we’re not in the house.”

_____ giggled and placed the platter on the table in front of her. “Is this your brother?” she asked the twins.

“Our youngest brother.” Fred reached behind him and ruffled Ron’s hair.

“And our darling-est sibling!” George blew a kiss, that made Ron roll his eyes.

He sat down at the other chair, opposite of Hermione. “You’re mental.”

Y/N extended her hand. “I’m _____. You must be Ron?”

“How’d you know my name?” Ron asked, as he shook her hand.

“Because she can read minds of her enemies,” George explained, wrapping his arm around the back of the chair.

“Not her friends, of course.” Fred high-fived his brother.

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it.

“Didn’t you mention _____ before, Ron?” George asked, getting a sly grin on his face.

Ron noticed, and quickly shook his head. “No no.”

“Now that you mention it Georgie, I think he did,” Fred continued.

“Said something about how she was talented in her spellwork.”

“For a _Hufflepuff._ ”

_____ lifted her brows as her eyes widened. “This fuckin place just hates everyone except Gryffindors,” she muttered.

Ron shook his head, more ardently. “I didn't say that. The compliment stopped at your spellwork.”

“Oh, so it was a compliment?” Fred teased.

Ron’s face went pink, and he remained silent.

Turning her attention to Hermione, she stuck out her hand and repeated her greeting.

“Hermione Granger,” she replied. “And you can call me Hermione. I’m most interested in your wandmanship. Perhaps we could study sometime.”

“Study?” _____ looked at her watch and gasped. “I’m meant to meet Hagrid in ten minutes, and I haven’t even gathered the herbs to bring.”

“We can help you get them,” George said, as Fred nodded.

“Don’t you two have Potions?” Ron grumbled, sitting up.

“Our talents lie _outside_ of the academic field,” Fred tutted. “I wouldn't go lecturing people on their Potions grades if I were you.”

_____ stood up, and the Weasley’s followed suit. “Not like Snippy would miss you anyways.” She grabbed her bag. “You want to come too?”

“Yeah… um I haven’t seen Hagrid in a while. Good friend, Hagrid.”

She laughed. “Okay. I just need to stop by the green house to get some mugwort, basil, and see if I can find any lavender.”

She got into a brisk pace towards the painting, when it opened suddenly. Luckily, having seen a similar incident twice already, the twins grabbed her shoulders to stop her from hitting the enterer head on.

A face that she instantly recognized was in front of her. “Oh, hey,” she greeted, waving a little. “You must be Harry. I’m _____ _____.”

He was taken aback, but had enough clarity to shoot Ron a nasty look. “Hi. Oh, um.” He shook her hand, and tried to figure out what he wanted to say first. “You’re that transfer student, right?”

“She’s a spitfire, Harry,” Fred informed him, resting his elbow on her head.

“Isn’t that right, _Ronald?_ ” George asked his brother, who looked to be in a great foul mood.

“Oh, well we can be friends then, I suppose,” he told her. He looked at her robes and forehead, before looking to the twins. “What hap—”

George interrupted him. “Fireworks.”

“Hospital.”

“Pastries.”

“To Hagrid’s.”

“After greenhouse.”

“Any questions?”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” George continued, as _____ shooed away Fred’s arm. “We’re not fraternizing with the enemy or anything. Cedric could hardly keep his tongue in his mouth when he saw _____ today.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Wildly inappropriate, George. And you’ll have an enemy soon enough with all that talk.”

“I love how Cedric gets the cold shoulder but I get all of this flirting.”

She elbowed him in the stomach, causing Fred to burst out laughing. “Cedric has no interest in me.” She smiled, and rubbed her forehead softly. “Sorry, Harry, but we really must be going. But I want to officially congratulate you on becoming a champion.”

“Sure he’d love that,” Ron grumbled.

Harry glared at him.

“Ron,” _____ said, turning her attention. “I’m sure you feel very betrayed at the thought that Harry cheated his way into the cup, butI’m sure you can figure out for yourself that Harry couldn’t do that. And maybe, we all have insecurities we have to deal with without taking them out on other people. Hmm? Don’t interrupt me talking to him anymore; thanks.” She whipped back, and stuck her hand out once more. “I look forward to seeing you compete, and perhaps any further encounters we may have. Bye bye!” With her final word, she gracefully brushed past him and down the stairs of the hall.

Fred and George lingered to stare between Harry and Ron, before they each slapped them on the backs. “She’s right,” Fred told them.

“No use fighting,” George finished.

Ron looked like he was about to say something, but Harry pushed past him to enter the room. As he did, he opened and closed the hand he had used to shake Y/N’s. It was soft. Ron looked at his brothers, who gave a knowing look.

“What? Pfft. She wasn’t— I’m not… _You_ guys are insecure!”

“Well she never said _that_.”

“Projecting, are we?”

When they caught up with her, she was opened the door to enter the green house, with Ron not too far behind them. She rushed in and began clipping what she needed into little drawstring bags she had pulled from her bag. The boys helped by gathering the mugwort, to which she thanked them.

She slowed down, and took extra care into clipping the lavender and carefully placing the buds in the bag. As she did so, the green house doors opened, and Neville walked in.

“_____! I was looking for you!” he exclaimed. He stopped short of her side, when he realized three more people were in there with them.

“Good morning, Neville,” she returned, looking up from the potted plant. “I thought I returned your book to you. Is there something else you need?”

“Oh, I just wanted to show you this new book I got. It’s on different magical plants and herbs. I think its a new edition and everything.” He held up the book for her to see, and she smiled.

“That looks awesome. Where did you get it? Did your grandmother send it to you? I thought you birthday passed.”

“Professor Moody gave it to me. As an apology gift of some sorts.”

He flipped through some of the pages, and showed the detailed illustrations of the plants and the neat print of the descriptions next to them.

“That’s amazing, Neville. And an apology? Did he do something?”

Neville became silent, and his grin wavered a bit. “Nothing serious, really. I’m just happy I got this book. I haven’t been able to put it down.”

“It looks amazing. I would love to hear what it’s about the next time we have a study period together.” She put away her shears and placed both them and the bag of herbs into her satchel. “I have to go to Hagrid’s now, but don’t we study together Thursday?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

She grinned broadly, and waved. “Wonderful. Later, Nevs.”

The visit to Hagrid’s was peaceful and despite the jokes being thrown between Fred and George. Hagrid uses the basil in his stew, and used the lavender and mugwort to freshen up the energy in his home. Ron and him shared their own interesting looks between each other, but never said anything that involved the games, the champions, or Harry.

When the hour was up, and dinner was arriving soon, the four of them returned to the castle and entered the dining hall.

_____ went to sit at her table, at the end where it was mostly empty, when Fred and George sat down next to her.

“What are you doing sitting alone?” Fred asked.

“Do we need to hex some Puffs for you?”

She rolled her eyes, and placed her bag underneath her seat. “Of course not. It’s just easier to eat alone.”

“Then we are about to make your life very difficult,” Fred told her.

“I’ve known you for four hours and it’s already gotten there.”

Overhearing from a table away, Neville saw as _____ bantered with the Weasley twins, filling her plate as they reached over and around her to steal her food. Mustering up whatever courage that landed him in his house, he stood up and joined.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked her, as he set his plate down across from her.

“Never, Neville. You’re just in time for Fred and George get a pie to the face.”

A smile crept to his face, and the boys shouted.

Soon, Harry, Hermione, and Ron joined as well. While Harry and Ron sat as far away from each other as they could, they couldn't hide their grins as everyone joked together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go. That is much more to work with and I am very excited about this chapter. Much much better.


	4. Perks of Being a Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _____ accompanies the group to the first challenge, and get closer with them all.

It had been a few weeks since meeting the twins, and one of the few days she left her dorm for something unrelated to classes or food. Peeves noticed her walking around, and quickly began to float behind her. 

“ _My my, the little transfer is out and about again. You seem to be in quite a rush._ ” 

“Peeves, are you named that because that’s all you are to the students here?” _____ demanded, refusing to slow down her walk. 

He let a shrill laugh loose. “ _So mean. Maybe you should cool off._ ” 

“If you drop water on me, I’ll exorcise you.” 

He knew it was an empty threat, and went to pour a bucket of water anyway. 

Tired, and barely emotionally charged to care, she took her wand and waved it. The water instead flew to the side, and doused a painting. The burly man bristled and sputtered the water out, and cursed at _____. “Watch where you’re wand waving!” he shouted. 

Peeves giggled hysterically, and began to bounce across the walls. “ _The transfer is a prankster! The transfer is a prankster!_ ” 

“Shut up, Peeves! That was all you!” But he was already flying through the walls, shouting in the faces of professors and students alike. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered, quickening her pace.

Once she made it to the library, _____ walked through the bookshelves, catching sight of Hermione reading at a lonely table. A few seats away, Victor Krum was sitting with a book open in the middle. Half paying attention, she noticed that he wasn’t reading, and was instead watching Hermione from afar as she read and studied. _____ knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but some habits are harder to crack than others, and she continued to keep her ears out as she pulled different defense and charm books from the shelves. 

It was in then that she could hear Victor ask Hermione to the Yule ball. 

_____ had nearly forgotten about dances. She remembered that in her world, they could look forward to homecomings and proms, but Hogwarts was not known for having such formal occasions. But, the Yule ball was specifically meant for the Triwizard tournament, so it was bound to show up only every once and awhile. 

Hermione said yes, as to be expected, and _____ left before she let herself get too invested in the conversations of near strangers. 

She checked out her books and perused down the hall, with her top one opened to the first page, when the distinct sound of matching paces met at he sides. 

“Well, good morning, _____!” Fred said, linking an arm through her right. 

“Seem to be very invested in that book there,” George continued, linking to her left. 

“Jesus, I need to put a bell around you two,” she replied, not looking up. “Never too early to learn. Oh, the privilege to get  _ bored _ of  _ magic _ . Couldn’t be me.”

They guided her through the sea of students and into the court yard, where she sat under the large tree near the wall. “Well, what kind of spells does this book hold?” Fred questioned, leaning against the trunk. 

“Well, I would know if I could get past the first paragraph,” she huffed. He didn’t give her much time to get any farther, as he pulled the book from her hands and peered at the words.

George leaned his weight into her shoulder, and sighed into the air. “Are you going to show us any of the advanced spells you have learned through all this studying?” 

She scoffed and laughed and elbowed him off. “Aren’t you like, two years ahead of me? You gonna show me any spells?” 

Fred closed the book and leaned into her as well, sandwiching her in place. “You know for a fact that you’ve done more in this month than we have in six years.” 

“Well, some of us like learning about magic and what you can do with it.” She wiggled to repel them off, and reached for her wand.

“ _ Orchideous. _ ” From the tip of her wand sprouted forth wonderful colors of flowers and greenery, much like a magician in the juggle world. 

Fred groaned. “That’s beautiful, but entirely useless.” 

“Is it?” She flicked her wand again. “ _ Duro. _ ” And the flowers became stone statues. Finally, she aimed her wand to the sky and shouted, “ _ Alarte ascendare!”  _ and the stone flowers shot up into the air at high speeds. “ _ Periculum incendio!”  _ A shot of red sparks ran through the air, locked aim at the falling stone flowers. When the sparks impacted, the bouquet turned to silver and orange dust, in the form of a firework. The shimmer rained down in the court yard, as the surrounding students watched in awe. 

_____ put her wand away, and gave a single nod to the twins. “I’m sure you must know some of those spells, given the fact you  _ make _ fireworks in your spare time.”

Fred nudged her with his elbow, ardently. “Are you able to use that in a charm?” 

“I’m sure I could figure out how.” 

George ruffled her hair, as she knocked his hand away. “You are very handy as a friend. You know that?” 

“Could’ve made that sound  _ way _ less sexual, and  _ way _ more sincere, but thanks I guess.” 

Fred and George began to toss things in front of her, seeing what kin of spells she could remember to point at them. She turned an acorn into a butterfly, a rock into a toad, and a scrap of paper into a fire that smoked colors. 

After the twins ran out of items to toss and throw, mostly due to the fact they were picking from the dirt at this point, and were interrupted by the presence of many Slytherin students. _____ was friends with a few Slytherins (well, friend as a loose term), and often enjoyed their company on trips to the library and to the dining hall, but this group was led by Draco Malfoy, who was rarely kind and cheerful to anyone outside of his house. 

“Oh boy,” George mumbled, giving a look to his brother.

“The drama queen is back,” Fred agreed. 

_____ gave a single flip of her hand to signal a wave, before placing her book mark in the crevice of the pages. 

“Well, if it isn’t the two  _ Weezers _ cozying up with a Hufflepuff,” he sneered. “Couldn’t get enough people in your own house to buy into you? Had to branch out to infect the rest of us?” 

“I’ll finish this conversation when you grow another foot and shrink that forehead,” Fred laughed, standing up.

“And don’t you worry, Malfoy,” George joined. “The only infection in this court yard is the one down your trousers.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Y/N mumbled, looking up to watch the stand off. 

Draco’s face turned a deep red, with embarrassment and anger. “How dare you!” he spat.

“Ready, Freddie?”

  
  


“Ready, George.” 

Before Draco could produce his wand, George pulled a little black rock from his robes pocket and winked before chucking it against the ground. A great deal of black smoke exploded, filling the area surrounding the tree in a pitch darkness. When the dust cleared, the twins were gone. 

Draco and his followers coughed and tried to clear out the smoke, with Draco’s vein on his forehead nearly breaking through. _____ tried to clear her throat, and pulled her wand once more. She mumbled a spell to herself, while slowly dragging her wand through the air, and the dust swirled away from the students and were sucked back to her wand, forming another small rock. 

“Those sons of bitches,” she said, stuffing the trick into her pocket. She dusted off her seat from the grass, and grabbed her side bag to sling over her shoulder.

“I’m gonna kill those Weasleys!” Draco shouted, looking around the area to see if they were still lurking. 

“Well, you will have to wait your turn, Malfoy,” _____ told him, causing the group to shift their attention to her. “Those bastards left me behind to deal with the mess.” 

Draco seemed utterly confused as to what to say. One of the Slytherins behind him laughed a little. “What did you say?” 

_____ turned to him, and raised a brow. “I said you need to wait your turn as I’m going to deal with them first.” 

More Slytherins laughed. 

“You heard her,  _ Malfoy, _ ” one of them said, clasping his shoulder. 

Draco went from red with anger to pink with embarrassment. “Are you insulting me?”

_____ had already turned her attention away, as she watched that funny teacher, Professor Moody, stalk around the square. “Huh? Oh, not at all. Unlike you, I don’t use names and houses as insults.” She faced him. “Not every hand offered is offered as a strike, Draco.” 

Too confused and struck to think of a reply, _____ shrugged. “Anyway, the age old question is upon us. Do I murder or do I get some lunch?” The Slytherins looked taken aback. “Eh, I’ll decide on my way to the dining hall.” She said goodbye, and began to walk away when she paused, and faced Draco again. “By the way, you may want to apply some ice to your face. I think the vanishing dust turned your face red.” And then she left. 

His friends nudged him, laughing as Draco watched her walk away. “She really got you,” they said. 

_ Is everyone here an ass to Hufflepuff’s?  _

__ _____ decided that it would be too much trouble to find out the Gryffindor common room password, and opted for a more instant reward. She walked into the dining hall, where she saw a few witches and wizards studying and playing chess. She had seen them play often, and could never see the appeal. Granted, none of them really had movies or video games or portable music. Most of wizard entertainment and everyday objects seemed stuck in an amish time-period. 

It was watching them play chess for the 400th time that made her miss her Spotify the most. As well as her collection of movies and tv shows. It certainly didn’t help when she realized that in the Muggle world it was the 80’s. Almost nothing she liked was invented yet. 

Usually, the tables would be empty of food (most likely to prevent students from over indulging in the sweets) but some special days the house elves left some sweet buns or cakes about. Today was one of those days. 

_____ grabbed a cupcake with chocolate frosting, and began to take the wrapper off. Before she could sit down, she heard the familiar voice of a distraught Hermione Granger bursting into the hall. “Wear the damn button, Ron!”

“No one supports it anyway!” he shouted back. 

_____ quickly shoved the cupcake in her mouth when she saw the two were heading her way. 

“_____!” Hermione exclaimed, looking much more relieved. “Surely you’d like to buy a button?”

She half covered her mouth to prevent any crumbs from falling out. “A buffon fah whaht?” she asked, trying to chew as fast as possible. 

“I’ve started an organization to give working wages to house elves.” 

“Do they not get paid?” she questioned, swallowing hard. The cupcake suddenly tasted terrible. 

Hermione shook her head, and Ron pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose. “No, they don’t. They are  _ slaves _ to witches and wizards.” 

“They’re slaves!?” _____ turned her attention to Ron, who seemed frightened at the though of having two people against him. “You guys still have slaves? Isn’t it the 90’s now?” 

“Exactly my point— wait… What do you mean ‘Isn’t it the 90’s?’” Hermoine looked very curious and suspicious. 

Not wanting to be thrown in whatever the equivalent to a mental hospital was here, _____ nodded to play along. “I mean, do wizards not count the years as we do? Like, is it not the 90’s in the wizarding world?” 

Hermoine looked less confused, and pondered as well. “That is a good question, however that doesn’t excuse the use of slaves. No matter the time period.” 

“They like the work,  _ you looney! _ ” Ron protested. “Remember Winky? Remember how distraught she was when she was freed? Dobby was an odd bug through and through.” 

“That’s because they don't know any better!” She dug into the box that was tied around her neck, and rummaged to pull out a button that had ’S.P.E.W.’ written across it. “Would you like to join and donate?” she asked, almost pleadingly. 

_ Hermione is very smart, but why the fuck would she name it  _ SPEW _? Like vomit? Jesus, witches and wizard can be dumb. _

“Of course,” _____ replied, trying to sound supportive. She did agree with the cause, but wasn’t sure wearing a green button with a throwing-up action was the most appealing. “How much is it?” She dug through her pocket, looking for some change.

“One galleon.” 

_____ nearly choked up her pastry.  _ One galleon!? That’s like six US dollars, and like four pounds. _ “And you made it yourself?” 

She hoped Hermione would say no, but she nodded. 

_____ tried to hide her fear and worry, and dropped a galleon in the box. Hermione seemed oblivious to the fact, but Ron gave a strange look that showed he understood more than he would let on. Thankfully, he said nothing. She pinned her button to her shirt, and forced the most realistic smile she could. “Glad I could support.” 

“Perhaps you can get Ronald to wear one.” Hermione gave a single nod, before turning to try and convince more people to join. 

_____ and Ron stood in silence as they watched her go. Before she could leave, Ron grabbed her by the elbow. “Hey, you didn’t have to give her anything, you know?” She could tell Ron was very uncomfortable talking about money, and was trying hard not to let it show. “Like, it’s okay. She’s only got herself in the organization.” 

“Well, I guess now there’s two.” _____ sighed. “I’m sure you don't understand— growing up in this kind of life, but in the Muggle world slavery is terrible. It’s unjust and corrupt. Even if most elves don't want to be free, they should at least have a choice.” She rubbed face, and clicked her button. “At least the food here is free, right? Thanks to elves.” 

“Do you not have…” He trailed off. 

_____ took her arm away, and her face became hot. “We both know we don't want to talk about this.” 

As she was leaving, Fred and George appeared, galavanting happily. “Hey, _____—”

“Not now,” she stopped them, pushing past. “I’m not in the mood.” 

They looked at each other, confused, and turned to Ron, who was standing dumbfounded in the middle of the aisle. “Did you have something to do with this?” they asked, stalking towards him. 

“Yeah,” he replied miserably. 

“Way to go, you splotchy git,” Fred told him, knocking the back of his head. 

“We were gonna invite her to sit with us during the tournament,” George explained, as Ron rubbed his hair and tried to fix it. 

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Hermione was pestering her about joining S.P.E.W. and made her pay a galleon for a damned button. Now she’s all weird because that was a lot of money.” 

Fred and George eyed each other. “Come to think of it, does anyone know about her home life?”

“Yeah, aren’t her parents magic?” 

Ron cocked a brow. “She mentioned the muggle world as if she lived in it all her life.” 

“Well.” George nudged his brother. “Harry is full blood and he was raised in the muggle world too.” 

“Well, that’s because he’s an… orphan…” 

The three grew quiet.

  
  


A few days had passed, and to the average student nothing had changed. _____ still went to the library to read as much as she could, Ron and Harry still avoided each other, the twins continued with their creations, and Hermione continued to fight for elven rights. 

One day in the library, when _____ was reading a book on creatures and where to find them, Fred walked up behind her and sat down. She glanced, but didn’t fully look up. “Hello, Fred.” 

“How do you know it’s Fred?” he asked, leaned on his fist to watch her. 

“I don’t know. You guys talk different, I guess. It’s hard to explain.” 

Fred laughed. “Are you still mad at dear Ronald?” 

_____ exhaled sharply. “I’m not mad at him. It’s just the topic that makes me sad or something.” 

“‘Or something?’” 

She let her head fall into the hills of her pages. “It’s just confusing. A lot of new information has been given to me, when my life used to be… not this. So I’m a little freaked all the time over everything and everyone.” 

“You seem pretty put together.”

She let out a sarcastic laugh, that died quickly. “I’m glad my masking is proving effective. 

“Masking?” 

_ Christ, wizards don’t know any fucking words. _

“Yeah, like wearing a mask. Hiding emotions and how you feel.” 

Fred grew quiet, and _____ turned her head to glance at him. He looked a bit out of place and unsure, along with a bit remorseful. She pressed her nose back into the book, and placed her hand on top of his. “Don’t be sad,” she told him. “I’m just overwhelmed sometimes. Is that all you wanted to ask me?” 

Fred looked down at her hand and chuckled. “No, I also was dropping by to see if you wanted to sit with us at the tournament.” 

“Oh, right. That’s still happening.” She lifted her head up and pushed her hair from her face. “Yeah, sounds fun.” 

~~

No one told her it was going to be chilly. 

_ No fucking news report or weather app to tell me it’s gonna be 20 fucking degrees in November. Can hardly keep track of the days, and now I have no proper clothes for this fuckin weather. Wizards could try to make self warmer spells but noooo. They learn spells to make flowers fucking grow. Goddamn it. I miss heated blankets.  _

_____ was planning on wearing her light blue ripped jeans and a grey sweater, because she swore it was much warmer yesterday, but the plan became astray when she looked at the passerby's and saw them wearing coats, cloaks, hats, and scarves. She was sure she had a Hufflepuff scarf somewhere, but that would hardly help her in the frosty air. 

Fred and George said they would meet her at the entrance of the castle and walk down together, and she waited there to tell them she wouldn’t be able to go. 

She slunk a bit into the corner, not wanting Cedric or Neville to see her. 

The twins bustled down a few moments later, wearing coats and hats and gloves and scarves and fully patched pants. “There you are!” George shouted, nearly tackling her when he wrapped an arm around her. 

“Such a shame you didn’t want us to pick you up at the common room,” said Fred, straightening his scarf as if it was a tie. 

“Didn’t want to give the secret hideout away, did ya?” They stopped when they saw her shiver from the open doors, and lock her arms across her body. “Hey, why’re you dressed all…  _ lightly _ ?” 

She breathed into her hands and rubbed them together. “I don’t have a coat or gloves or anything. They gave the house scarves with the uniforms so I tried to wrap that around me.” Her scarf started at her neck, and spiraled down her shoulders and was tucked under one of her arms. It didn’t appear very affective. 

The twins exchanged a look, but thankfully didn't mention anything. “Well, we can’t be parading around with a dressy git like you,” Fred laughed, as he began to remove his hat.

“Yeah, your style doesn’t match us at all.” George removed his gloves. 

“Luckily you have us, and we’re willing to sacrifice our good looks to up yours.” 

Before she could explain she wouldn’t be able to go, they quickly began piling on an even amount of clothes onto her body, until she was in a cave of warmth. Now, she wore another sweater a top her own, with a ‘G’ on it, a hat with a poof on the end, and thick fuzzy gloves. They were all a bit too big for her, and she flapped her hands. “Are you sure this is fine? It’s so obvious these aren't my clothes.” 

George and Fred linked their arms through hers, as they always did, and began marching out to the arena. 

“Of course it’s fine.” 

“Even if you do look like a little baby in all those layers.” 

She barked out some laughter. “Thanks. That makes me feel  _ sooo _ pretty.” 

The walk to the bridge was accompanied by the ever increasing looks of the students. _____ was sure rumors were going to start in the next few days or so, but was too busy trying to stop laughing to pay attention. The autumn leaves were flying around them, and she wondered if any pixies or sprites were riding them, like the Disney movies she would watch as a child. She remembered reading about Cornish Pixies, but Neville said that they were less than playful. 

The wind was crisp, and _____ wondered how she hadn’t noticed how cold it got. It most likely had something to do with the fact she tried to avoid going outside once she realized a full month had passed since she had appeared here, and tried to convince the others that going outside or socializing was against her religion. Granted, she said her religion was  _ Normalism _ , but they believed it. Then, the school said she needed a permission slip to go to Hogsmead, despite the fact they didn’t exist here, and she decided sneaking through the secret tunnels was too much work. Fred and George almost caught on, but she responded to most inquisitions with an excuse about how she had to catch up in potions. 

Finally, she couldn’t avoid classmates and had to learn how not to let on how miserable she was sitting there. The library was one of the first places she had gone that month, and Fred must’ve heard Peeves running about the halls. 

“Are there sections in the stadium?” she asked, when the two finally let go of her arms. 

“Afraid of breaking the rules?” Fred teased. 

“Please, I break the rules all the time.” It was mostly true. Ever since she found out about the secret tunnels she had been journeying through them almost every night. Her sleep schedule was royally fucked over, but with how big the castle was she was willing to stay awake to walk it. It was also very therapeutic. No dreams of what her regular life was like. Just the quiet halls of flickering torch light, and the cool brick under her shoes. 

“Then why ask?” 

“Because it seems like you guys didn’t fill me on any  _ ‘secret disguise info’ _ to make sure I don’t blow your cover.” 

They laughed, and _____ began to tell the difference between each chuckle they had. They seemed to be laughing with her, rather than at her. 

“We wouldn’t have to tell you anything anyway.” George whistled into the wind, as the stadium came into view. 

“And why’s that?” 

“Because you would go along with it in a heartbeat.” 

She rolled her eyes, but knew they were a little right. But they didn’t need to know that. 

“So what is the first competition?” she asked, adjusting the wand in her pocket. She fiddled with it until she placed it behind her ear. “Like, what are we about to watch?” 

“No one really knows,” George replies. “But whatever it is, it’s wicked dangerous.” 

“Yeah, I heard one year they had to fight the giant squid in the lake.” Fred laughed, but he didn’t sound like he was joking. “And another one was being transported to a desert with nothing but a wand and the clothes on their backs.” 

“How is anyone suppose to watch if they're transported away? That sounds so  _ boring! _ ” 

As the arena appeared in front of them, a girl with fiery red hair jogged up to them, with Neville, Hermione, and Ron on her heels. “There you are!” she shouted, smiling with a familiar twinkle in her eyes. “Said you were gonna bring the transfer and practically disappeared for half an hour.” She turned to _____ and stuck out her hand. “I’m Ginny Weasley. Have my brothers been bothers to you?” 

She shook her hand, a bit shocked by the grip Ginny had. “You have no idea.” 

“You just mean Fred and George, right?” Ron asked behind her, glancing over her shoulder. 

“Never. I definitely include you. And Percy. And Bill and Charlie, should she ever have the misfortune of meeting them.” 

While Ron looked miffed, the twins practically raised their noses as if given a reward. “You flatter us, sister.” 

“Yeah, much too kind.” 

Ginny gave a look like “can you believe these people?” to which _____ replied with an eye roll and nod. “I like her. Any of you corrupt her by spiking her butterbeer with potions and I’ll have your head on my broom.” 

Hermione and Neville laughed, knowing that Ginny couldn’t possibly mean them. But when Hermione finally looked at _____ and cocked her head to the side. “Are those Fred and George’s clothes?” 

The circle grew quiet as the Weasley’s all shared uneasy glances. Neville caught on after a moment, and Hermione had a confused and inquizzative expression. 

“Is that the band I hear?” _____ said loudly, trying to break up the silence. “Wow, I hope they have the harmonizing toads. Would love to see that up close.” 

Ginny shook out of the “Private Weasley Family Telepathy Group” and nodded. “Well, of course you want to. Nothing more interesting than singing frogs. Let’s hurry to our seats before someone snatches them.” 

“I’ll meet you guys there!” Hermione said suddenly, before running towards a tent set up along the wall of the arena. _____ figured that the competitors were there, and she’d gone to wish Harry good luck. Her thought was confirmed by the angered look growing on Ron’s face. 

The climb up to the rows on benches was accompanied by the five or so slips _____ took. Temple Run was right with the dying screen saying “Rock’s slippery when wet.” The morning dew with the icy air turned the steps into a Saw trap and a slip-n-slide. 

“Hufflepuffs,” that one guy Marty muttered as they passed. 

“ _ Rigor Mortis _ ,” _____ said, flicking her wand from behind her ear. 

Marty then froze in place, barely able to make the low groan as his eyes frantically looked around. 

“Okay, let’s go.” And then she slipped again. 

_____ remembered when she was in the marching band in her Muggle life, and had to watch the football games in late November. It was exactly like this, except she didn’t have her phone with her to pass the time. The less-than-lovely feeling of wet benches seeping through pants and soaking her butt. And the back pain that came from sitting on a plank of metal for three hours straight. 

“Someone set me on fire,” she grumbled, as she attempted to wrap the back of the sweater under her butt. “I wish I had those hand warming thingies.” 

“Some what?” Neville asked, looking across Ginny. 

_____ blew into her hands. “There are these things where you take them out of the package, and then you shake them up and roll them and they start heating. So you can hold them in your gloves or pockets and have warm hands.” 

“Our father would love to meet you,” Ginny told her. “He works in Muggle Studies and Relations for a living.” 

“Man, I wish people were this interested to meet me back home.” She froze at the word ‘home’. Was she giving herself away?  _ Shit now I’m thinking about home and I feel like shit. Fuck, don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. _

She cleared her throat. “But yeah you’re dad sounds super cool.” 

Ron snorted and shook his head. “That’s a first. Never heard someone describe him as anything other than nutty.” 

“You’re nuttier than him.” Ginny elbowed his side. 

Neville gave a toothy smile. “My gran likes to wear bird hats and fluffy collared shirts. I’m sure we’ve all got nutty relatives.” 

The image popped into _____’s head and she laughed loudly. “Sounds like Christmas is interesting.” 

George nudged Ron, who looked confused. “Well, this year we aren’t going home for Christmas. You’ll have to stick around till summer to meet him.” 

“What do you mean we’re not having Christmas this year?” 

Before anyone could answer him, a sound of a cannon firing, followed by the band ( _ with no fucking frogs. I mean honestly, where the fuck are the singing toads this is absolute bullshit-- _ ) announced the official start of the game.

_____ turned to the arena, and was quickly shocked at the sight of it being completely filled with stones and boulders and rocks. The yellow and black shirt of Cedric Diggory appeared near the bottom, to which he had his wand equipped and was scanning the terrain. Then, the gleam of a gold object shined in her eyes, and she saw a beautiful golden egg in the middle. 

Just as _____ began to wonder what the task specifically was, a roar filled the icy air with a fiery spark, and flames were shot directly at Cedric. 

“JESUS CHRIST; WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?” But no one needed to answer her as a large dragon crawled her way to Cedric, with a nasty bite aiming to kill. 

“Woah, so they have to fight a literal dragon?” _____ asked George, who was sitting directly next to her left side. 

“I don’t think so. They’re just suppose to get the egg,” he answered, surprisingly less joking and humorous. “These are mother dragons and they’re wicked protective.” 

“Hehe, wicked.” 

George got a goofy smile on his face when she poked fun at his words. 

“How do you know about dragons? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you read. Even the labels on your own candies.” 

“Our brothers, Charlie and Bill, work with dragons for a living. Helped smuggle out a baby in Ron’s first year.” 

Ron whipped his head from the action to stare at his brother. “How did you know about that?” 

Fred and George shook their heads, as if seldom in a tragedy. “Oh, Ronald. Have you remembered nothing from last year?” 

“We had a map that told all of us where everyone was since our first year.” 

“Harry did something with it. Can’t remember if Lupin ever gave that bloody thing back, but he should know where it is.” 

More fire and roaring. 

_____ looked as Cedric whipped spells and hopped from boulder to boulder. “I understand that the idea of everlasting glory on one's name is like…  _ super cool _ or whatever, but should we be worried?” 

Ron shook his head, but his jealousy of Harry being a champion had probably warped his sense of reasoning. “I’m sure it’s fine. They wouldn’t make anything that they couldn’t survive.” 

“You guys play Quidditch,” she deadpanned. “People die from that, too. Whoever had the idea of flying around thousands of miles in the air was an absolutely idiot.” 

On her last word, the crowd erupted into cheers as Cedric slid across the rock to snatch the golden egg, before disappearing into the tunnel. The dragon snapped angrily at the spot where Cedric once stood, and handlers began to move the dragon from the arena. Somehow, the look the dragon had on her face, heart broken and angry, made _____’s heart ache. 

“I feel bad for the dragon. I wish they didn’t use creatures as entertainment.” 

“Well, Bill and Charlie would  _ really _ love to meet you.” Ron strained his neck to try and catch a look of one of his brothers, should they be there, when Hermione appeared. 

“Did I miss the first one?” she asked, seeming a little frazzled and unkempt. 

_____’s brows knitted together. “Didn’t you hear the dragon?” 

“Well, I wasn’t sure if it was from the arena or from the ones outside. I couldn’t get back in. Filch was guarding the steps.” 

_____ groaned. “I feel bad for Filch-- _ I really do _ \-- but that guy has a hard on for punishments. It’s honestly terrifying he’s working with children.” 

A slender and glistening green dragon was allowed into the rocky area, with the same chain and collar around her perfect neck. A new egg appeared in the middle, and the shape of light blue and long silvery hair appeared out of the doors. 

_____ noticed that the boys around her began to drool watch her gracefully leap from rock to rock, and couldn’t help but do the same. The girl was beautiful and graceful, and everything about the way she moved reminded her of fairy-princess. 

Hermione scoffed, and rolled her eyes. “Ugh, grow up, Ron. She’s  _ Veela _ . She’s not  _ really _ that beautiful.” Ginny didn’t say anything, but it was clear she agreed. 

“Wow, Hermione!” _____ turned to her. “You have the audacity to vouch for Elven rights and blatant discriminate against Veelans because she’s… what? Because she’s  _ pretty _ ? Jesus, your prejudice is showing.” 

“W-what? I-I’m not--” 

“I’m wearing makeup right now,” she told her, blinking in long movements to emphasize her long lashes. “Are you going to say I’m not actually pretty because I have  _ foundation _ ?” 

Ginny and Hermione quickly grew seldom and quiet, not daring to say anything. 

“I think it’s really awesome that you-- Hermione-- are a badass witch who’s the top of her class in everything, and you-- Ginny-- are a badass witch with a spitfire spirit and love for sports, but the  _ internalized misogyny _ directed at a woman  _ fighting a dragon _ needs to stop real quick or we’re gonna have problems.” 

_____ reached over to Ron and closed his mouth, causing him to shake his head and blush. “And stop drooling after her. She’s a woman, not an object. You’re objectifying her by being just interested in her body.” 

The bench was quiet for the rest of Fleur’s round, and for a bit of Krum’s. 

Finally, before it was Harry’s turn, Hermione tapped _____’s shoulder. “I hope you know I don’t think you’re ugly.” 

_ Nice compliment. I’ll write it in my diary tonight, and heart your name.  _

_____ nodded her head, swallowing her sarcastic comment. “I know, Hermione. But we’re women in a world designed against us. You can’t go around hating girls for liking girl things. We gotta have each other's backs, okay? Or boys are gonna walk all over us.” 

Ginny nodded along, and punched _____’s shoulder. “You’re pretty badass yourself, _____.” 

“Thanks, it’s my trauma.” 

Silence and uneasy looks. 

“Shit, I forget you’re all… not my humor.” 

Harry appeared in the ring, wearing red and black clothes. _____ was unsure of where the dragon was, as everything looked pretty grey, when the loud crash of boulders exploding and breaking cracked through the air. 

The dragon was large, grey, and angry. She had spikes up and down her back, and a barbed tail smashing all around. Harry was thrown by the impact, and smashed against the rocks. 

Unconsciously, _____ and Ron stood up, pressing their stomachs against the railing in front of them. “Will he be disqualified if I intervene?” she asked. 

“Absolutely.” Ron watched with a fear she didn’t expect from someone who supposedly hated Harry, but realized that the “hatred” was really just misplaced anger. His best friend was out there, fighting for his life. 

“Do you think he’ll care?” 

“I care, you numpy!” Fred told her, grabbing her arm to sit her down. “Don’t go and fight a dragon when you didn’t know what they were two months ago.” 

“But--” 

“Harry’s got it,” George reassured. “He survived a killing curse. He can take a great lizard.” 

Harry yelled something from the arena, and casted into the air. 

“What did he say? What spell did he say?” 

Hermione stood and looked around, searching the sky. “DUCK!” she cried. 

_____ covered her head as something wiz passed her head, causing her neck to burst into goosebumps and chills. When she looked up and opened her eyes to watch as Harry rode a broom out of the arena. 

“HOLY SHIT WAY TO GO HARRY!” _____ shouted after him, as the crowd cheered and hollered. Only for the dragon to break from her chains and fly after him, dragging her tail through the tent. “FUCKING HELL!” 

“You swear a lot,” Ron noted. 

“I’M STRESSED!” 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goodness. Nearly 6500 words in just his chapter. Exciting news and exciting times. Should I be adding swear warnings? I'll start doing warnings next chapter.


	5. Waltz of the Pickled Plums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _____ goes to see the Elves in the kitchens and has a few fun times watching people search for dates to the dance.

_**Warnings**_ : _Chapter contains self-deprecating humor and swearing._

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_____ watched as Fred and George paraded Harry on their shoulders, as the Gryffindor common room shouted and celebrated. 

“Do you want me to open it?” Harry shouted. 

The room screamed in excitement. 

He turned the top of the golden egg, and the sides split open. Inside was a beautiful pool like shimmer, with rays of light escaping out. _____ would’ve noted more beautiful aspects it had to offer had it not been for the ear piercing screech it emitted. Everyone clasped their ears and groaned, practically collapsing over themselves. 

“TURN IT OFF!” _____ yelled, wincing at the vibrations assaulting her ear drum. 

The top closed with a defining snap, as everyone looked to each other confused and frightened. The whispers began as many students questioned if Harry would be able to figure out the clue, which was clearly recited in banshee-speak. Harry himself looked nervous, and even a little embarrassed or annoyed. 

“Guys, clearly he has to figure out how to get it to stop screeching so he can hear what the next challenge is,” _____ piped up, silencing the common. 

“How do you know that?” Hermione asked, shaking her head. 

_____ made a face (one of  _ ‘God, wizards are fucking stupid sometimes’ _ ). “Well, the egg contains the clue, and there wasn’t any writing inside or outside. So it’s probably an oral--  _ stop snickering _ \-- clue or location. Like it tells you.” 

“How did you even figure that out so fast?” 

“Is it  _ not _ obvious? Why else would it make a sound so terrible you have to close it right away?  _ That’s _ the challenge. Well, challenge to figure out the  _ next _ challenge.” 

The room was quiet, pondering her statement. Most silently agreed and nodded their heads, while others stared in disbelief. 

“She’s not even a Gryffindor!” 

“ _ Shut up, Marty! _ ” a good chunk of the students yelled back. 

George looked to his brother, and nodded. “Okay, file out. Nothing to see here.” 

“Alright everyone, go back to your knitting. This is gonna be uncomfortable enough without all you nosey sods listening in.,” ordered Fred. 

The whispers and murmurs followed them, as they walked through the doorway to climb their stairs. The ones who lingered behind were Ron, Hermione, and Harry. The twins were still in the main room, but watching from the wall as Ron walked up to Harry. 

“I reckon you'd have to be barking mad to put your own name in the goblet of fire.” He looked very uncomfortable. Not for apologizing but for being wrong in the first place. 

Harry looked slightly relieved, but was obviously still angry. “Caught on, have you? Took you long enough.” 

Sheepishly, Ron rubbed the back of his neck. “Wasn't just me who thought you'd done it. Everyone was saying it behind your back.” 

Harry threw a hand up in exasperation. “Brilliant! That makes me feel loads better.” 

“At least I warned you about the dragons,” he offered. 

“Wait, what?” _____ walked forward. “Sorry to interrupt this bromance moment, but Ron told you about the dragons?” 

“No he didn’t. Hagrid warned me about the dragons.” 

“Oh no no, I did. Don't you remember? I told Hermione to tell you that Seamus told me that Parvati told Dean that Hagrid was looking for you. Seamus never actually told me anything, so it was really me all along. I thought you'd be alright, you know, after you figured that out.” 

_____ was counting on her fingers as Ron listed people. It made sense, but he was going a bit fast that it sounded much more complicated than it was. “Wait, so Seamus, Parvati, and Dean didn’t know?” 

“Who could possibly figure that out? That's completely mental.”

Ron smiled, which was the first smile _____ had seen from him being in a room with Harry. “Yeah it is, isn't it? Suppose I was a bit distraught.” 

“Boys,” Hermione said, shaking her head. 

“Same,” _____ said, at the same time. “Oh, right. I mean boys. Because I’m never… distraught, I guess.” 

Still a little unnerved by her sense of humor, the three still gave a laugh, because it was a little funny, if anything. 

“Well, on that embarrassing note I should head back to my dorm. Disgusting saying dorm. Too fancy for me.” 

“First time I’ve heard someone describe Hogwarts rooms as  _ fancy _ .” Ron joked. 

“I’m used to a more…  _ cozy _ room, With less gold and tulle drapes around my bed.” She gazed around the room, very dramatically. “Like, take this room, shrink it by 10, maybe 15, and remove the colors and furniture and fireplace, and that’s the size of my normal living quarters.” 

_____ looked to the small hallway leading out into the castle. “Do you think Filch and his demon-cat are wandering the halls?” 

“Most likely.” 

“Welp, until tomorrow. Or what day I see you next.” _____ walked over the tapestry hanging on the wall, adjacent to the fireplace, and brushed it to the side. She knocked a tune against the individual stones and the wall opened up to reveal a passageway. “Later, nerds.” 

Pause. 

“That’s a compliment. Nerds are  _ wicked _ .” 

And then she disappeared. 

The Weasleys looked to Harry and Hermione, who were equally confused. “Is that Muggle vernacular or something?” 

“No,” they replied. 

Hermione shook her head. “She’s quite odd, isn’t she? I swore she forgot what year it was.” 

“Maybe she’s just dottie,” Ron suggested. “I’m sure  _ I’ve _ forgotten what year it was before.” 

“But she didn’t say what year it was,” she urged. “She just said ‘ _ the 90’s _ ’ and then quickly moved on.” 

“Think she has a time-turner or something?” Harry questioned. 

“It wouldn’t explain how she doesn’t know anything about the wizard world though. If she had a time-turner she would’ve had to hit it  _ loads _ of time to go back even  _ one _ year. And she would have to know enough to know about  _ that _ piece of magic.” 

“There’s one possibility we’re not thinking of,” Fred piped up, waving his finger in the air. 

“And what’s that, Freddie?” George smirked looking at him. 

“That she’s what she says we are.  _ Cool _ .” 

~~ 

“ _ Let it gooo. Let it gooo. Can’t hold it back anymore. _ ” _____ mumbled to herself as she walked out of transfiguration. In her hand she held a small succulent plant, which when turned over transformed into a small toad. Then when the toad croaked, it turned back into a plant. 

Professor McGonagall mentioned that she would have a good career in the de-charming of bewitched animals or items, to which _____ laughed. She apologized, and simply stated, “Let’s not hold out that I graduate, or even make it to that point.” 

The professor seemed a bit concerned and miffed by her bluntness, but didn’t keep her behind to further question. 

“God, I miss Spotify,” she told herself, trying to remember what songs she liked listening to. “I never thought I would miss percussion, but I would murder for a fucking xylophone right now.” 

She was about to pass into the large way filled with stairs, when she saw Harry, Hermione, and Ron standing at a large painting with a fruit bowl as the subject. Naturally, the noise that followed them was Hermione and Ron bickering, while Harry joined in to keep the peace or express a sarcastic comment. 

“What’s happening here?” _____ asked. 

Hermione whipped around with a big smile on her face. “_____! Thank goodness you’re here. We were just about to go into the kitchens where the Elves make the food. We need our fourth member to join us.” 

“ _ Fourth? _ ” Ron demanded. “Harry and I are not a part of S.P.E.W.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she waved him off. “You have a button.” 

“That you forced me to wear!” 

Hermione shook her head. “_____’s wearing hers.” 

_____ looked down, and there it was. A big button with S.P.E.W. written on it. “That I am. It’s like a fashion sense as well as a probable cause.” 

“Exactly.” 

Before Ron could protest some more, Hermione tickled her finger over the pear, and the painting swung open. 

On the other side was a kitchen that _____ had never seen. Granted, she was sure that the food didn’t only come out of the kitchens leading to the Hufflepuff common room, but she didn’t think this one would be so busy. 

Elves, only about two to three feet tall, rushed about whipping up food, or running through rooms and returning with dishes or clothes. They all wore pillow cases tied at the shoulders, or stained rags with tears and rips at the base. It was off putting, to say the least. There was nothing more heart-wrenching than raggidy clothed workers. 

“Dobby?” Harry asked, looking to one of the Elves. 

“Harry Potter has come to visit Dobby!” 

A small Elf, with large crystal eyes and about four pairs of socks on. On top of his head were hats upon hats, of all different colors. He waddled up to Harry, with a beaming smile, which was accompanied by the wailing of another. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Dobby smoothed out his sack, which looked a little cleaner than the rest. “Dobby was looking for work for two years, but no one wants to pay a House-Elf for work. So Dobby came to Hogwarts and Dumbledore gave me a job.” 

“A job?” Hermione asked, clearly happier than before. 

“Yes, Miss Granger. Headmaster Dumbledore is paying Dobby one Galleon a week, and I work six days.” 

The other Elves shot dirty and disgusted looks at Dobby, who continued smiling wide.

“Only 1 per week?” Hermione demanded. “He should be paying you much more!” 

“Oh, he offered Dobby ten Galleons a week, with weekends and holidays off. But that was too much for Dobby.” 

More cries come from a blob under a sheet, which shook and wobbled with every shaking breath. 

“And Winky got a job here too!” 

More cries and sobs. 

“Winky’s working here? Well, that’s wonderful!” 

_____ walked over to the sheet, and pulled the top up to reveal an Elf, with big sad eyes and a small pointing nose sobbing into her hands. “Are you okay?” 

“Nooooo,” she cried, as big tears dripped down her chin. “Winky is miserable. No one will want an Elf that was clothed in disgrace.” 

_____ looked back and gave a confused look. 

“Mr. Crouch fired her at the Quidditch World Cup for producing a dark mark,” Ron explained. 

“ _ Allegedly! _ ” Hermione corrected. “He didn’t have any proof and knew Winky couldn’t do anything. But he wanted to show his peers that he meant business, and fired her.” 

She let out another pitiful sob. 

“Master Crouch was such a good master, and he treated Winky well. Now I’m a  _ free _ Elf with no family.” 

“Don’t worry Winky,” Dobby told her, patting her back. “Dobby was worried about being free but realized a lot of good can happen now.” 

“You should find a nice family and settle down, Dobby,” Winky replied, wiping away her tears. 

“See, Hermione. These Elves  _ want _ to work without pay.” Ron turned to see an Elf holding a large platter of pastries. He grabbed one and took a bite. 

“Honestly, Ron. Do you know how to do anything other than spoil things?” 

“Hey, Winky,” Harry began, kneeling next to her. “Did you ever hear Mr. Crouch mention a Ludo Bagman?” 

She perked up a bit at the name of her old master. “Master Crouch and Winky agree on the idea that Ludo Bagman is trouble. Mr. Crouch trusted Winky with all of his opinions and secrets.” 

Harry gave a suspicious look to Ron, who agreed. 

“Thank you, Winky. I’m sure everything will be better soon.” 

“You are kind, Mister Potter. But no one wants a bad Elf like me.” And she returned to crying. 

All the while Hermione attempted to tell the Elves to form a revolution and march to Dumbledore’s office demanding wages and paid leave, only to be shot down with dirty looks. 

“Let’s go, Hermione. Before they kick us out.” Ron began to take some of the snacks that the Elves were offering and stuffing them into his pockets. Harry went to do the same. 

“Psst. Hey. Boys.” _____ snapped his fingers. “Come over here a sec.” They scooted into a corner as _____ lowered her voice. “I get it. The Elves don’t want to get paid and that’s fine. Whatever floats their boat. But at this point, Hermione is dying on an uphill battlefield and as her friends we’re gonna die with her. And that means not stuffing our pockets with Little Debbies.” 

“What are Little--” 

“Nevermind what they are, Ron. Hermione really cares about this and maybe we should consider that it’s because she’s Muggle-born and knows what it’s like to not have some rights in the wizarding world. So don’t stuff your pockets and just support her, okay?” 

Harry nodded, and Ron agreed reluctantly. “But I can’t give the food back now. The Elves’ll be distraught.” 

“Then just don’t take anymore.” 

_____ broke up the circle and cleared her throat, grabbing the attention of the Elves. “Hi there. I just wanted to say a few things before we get out of your way. First thing, you guys are making great food. Splendid. You guys are so good at your jobs.” 

The Elves brightened at the compliment, and seemed to start cooking faster. 

“And we know that interrupting your work place and telling you to do things you don’t want to do can be annoying or even disrespectful.” _____ held up her hand to stop Hermione from adding. “But we all see how sad Winky is? That’s how some Elves feel working without pay. And that may seem weird to you but it’s still real.” 

Some of the Elves nodded. Not quite accepting but understanding her point. 

“Now, you don’t have to get paid if you don’t want to. But I think we can all agree that if you want to live life a certain you should be able to. What if no Elves were allowed to work?” 

Protests and shocked gasps filled the kitchen. 

“Exactly! You guys don’t want to do that, but some Elves like Dobby want to. And we are fighting for that choice. So maybe don’t wear the buttons as a stance to get paid, but as a stance for your right to choose to work, and the few others to work for money.” 

Not all, but a good size, of Elves agreed and gave a hearty cheer. Hermione was beaming at the sight of Elves filing to grab a button. She didn’t need to know that many were writing, “ _ But not for me _ ” under the acronym. 

“Thank you, _____.” Hermione turned to leave, having given away plenty of buttons. _____ gave the boys a thumbs up and a wink. 

When all three of them had left, leaving her alone, she walked to Winky, who was still crying over her unemployment. 

“Winky, do you know what a  _ quid pro quo _ is?” _____ asked, keeping her voice low. 

Winky shook her head. 

“Well, it’s Latin for if you do something for me I’ll do something for you.” _____ grabbed an extra button from her robe pocket, and held it up in her palm. “I will ask you to do small  _ favors _ for me, but I won’t pay you if that’s what you want. What I ask for in return is that you wear this button. And you can think of that as a favor as well.” 

“You’re asking Winky to do jobs for you?” 

“ _ Not jobs _ . Not jobs.  _ Favors _ . Like asking a friend.” 

Winky didn’t seem to like the idea of that, let alone being friends. 

“But if you don’t want to--” 

“No no! Winky wants to.” She seemed desperate to work. “Can I think of them as jobs but call them favors?” 

“Sure, Winky.” 

She quickly took the button from _____’s hand and pinned it to her ragged pillow case. “What is my first…  _ favor? _ ” 

“I’m asking you to take care of this little plant/frog.” She produced the succulent from transfigurations and placed it in Winky’s small hand. “When it’s a plant, give it some water. When it’s a frog, give it some bugs. I can’t take care of him, but I’m sure you are great at taking care of things for people.” 

The succulent turned into a frog and fell asleep in Winky’s hand. 

“And this is very important?” 

_____ nodded her head, trying to seem serious. “ _ Very _ important. It’s a  _ favor _ ,” she winked at the Elf, “I would only ask of someone who is  _ very _ responsible.” 

Winky smiled as a big tear fell from her eye. “Thank you, Miss. This makes Winky very happy.” 

“Anything for a friend.” But she didn’t say if she meant Winky or Hermione.

_____ found the Trio in the hallway, on their way to the dining hall. “Hermione! I have great news.” The three of them turned around. “Winky agreed to wear the button. She still wants to work for a family, but she agreed to wear it.” 

“Really!? That’s amazing! What did you say to her?” 

“Just that it would be a huge favor and kindness if she did.” 

Hermione seemed pleased, and strutted down the hallway, holding her button box out for everyone to see. 

They followed behind her. 

“What did you say to Winky?” Ron whispered. 

“Yeah, she looked like she would rather die than get paid,” Harry added.

“Well, I may have given her a job.” 

“I thought you supported S.P.E.W.!” Harry protested, attempting to keep his voice down. 

_____ felt her stomach sink. “I do! But I’m not about to weigh the morality between indentured servitude and the misery of a creature. It’s a compromise. She’s a free Elf but she can stop crying and do something she wants. I couldn’t stand to watch her sob. It reminded me of when I came here.” 

“You sobbed coming to Hogwarts?” Ron looked shocked, along with Harry, 

_____ waved her hand. “You can unlock my backstory in like two years. For now, let’s focus on the fact that I did something to make everyone happy.” 

“But--” 

“Shush, Ron. If I want to hate myself I’ll do it at night when I have time. For now, we’re happy.” 

Knowing that she passed out more buttons to the Elves than she did to witches and wizards, Hermione sat herself down at the Gryffindor table and happily began to grab food. _____, Harry, and Ron followed her lead, and saw that many of the other Gryffindors were already there. 

Harry grabbed a goblet of juice and took a sip. He turned around and saw Cho Chang, who was at the Ravenclaw table, smiling at him. He went to smile back but the juice in his mouth dripped onto his lap. Cho and her friends giggled at the sight, and turned back around. 

He quickly went to grab a napkin, and grew red with _____ staring at him. “Smooth.” 

Hermione picked up a paper that laid in the middle of the table, read the first page, and scoffed. “Now my mood is ruined. Look at this!” She moved the paper for _____ to read, but moved it back before she could. “I can't believe it! She's done it again.” She cleared her throat. “‘Miss Granger-- a plain but ambitious girl-- seems to be developing a taste for  _ famous _ wizards. Her latest prey, sources report, is none other than the Bulgarian  _ bon-bon _ Viktor Krum. 

_____ scrunched her brows. “Bon-bon? The fucking candy?” 

“No word yet on how Harry Potter's taking this latest emotional blow.”

“Who wrote that?” 

“Rita Skeeter!” Hermione roared, stabbing her food. “I thought she was banned from the grounds. How is she getting all of this information?” 

“Maybe she has mics hidden. Or secret cameras following you.” 

  
  


Suddenly, a young boy ran up behind Ron, who already had a full plate, and handed a box to him. “Parcel for you, Mr. Weasley.” 

“ _ Mr _ . Weasley?” _____ muttered.

“Thank you, Nigel,” Ron thanked, taking it from him. 

Rather than taking his leave, Nigel stared at Harry, who was still trying to dry his trousers from his spill. It was an awkward stare before Ron nudged him. “Not now, Nigel. Later. Go on.” 

Nigel ran away, looking very pleased with himself. 

“What was that about,  _ Mr _ . Weasley?”

Ron looked embarrassed. “I told him I'd get him Harry's autograph.” Before anyone could question the words that fell from his mouth, Ron read the writing on top of the box. “Oh, look! Mum's sent me something.” He opened the top, and stood to pull a piece of folded fabric out. It unfolded down his body, as he looked with confusion. “Mum… sent me a dress?” 

“Well, it does match your eyes,” Harry offered, as the table laughed. “Is there a bonnet?” 

“Oh ha ha.” Ron turned to his sister, who tried to seem preoccupied. “Ginny, these must be for you.” 

Ginny’s face scrunched up as she took in the material. Velvet with ruffles and a mauve pink fabric. “I’m not wearing that; it’s ghastly.” 

Hermione let loose a giggle. 

“What are you on about?” Ron asked. 

“They’re not for Ginny,” she said, her face filled with amusement. “They’re for  _ you _ .” 

“The table laughed loudly. 

“Dress robes.” 

“Dress robes? For what?” 

~~ 

“How do you suppose the Slytherin dance lessons went?” _____ asked, a week after the dress robes incident. 

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, barely glancing from her book. 

“Well, you guys had McGonagall and I had Professor Sprout. It must be the head of all the houses. Which means Snape had to teach a waltz and foxtrot and whatever.” 

The image of greasy haired Snape instructing a guy how to properly hold his waist was both beautiful and nightmare-fuel. 

“I did not need to picture that,” she laughed. 

“I overheard Cedric ask Cho to the dance,” _____ mentioned. 

Hermione looked up completely. “Really?” She sounded extremely shocked. 

“Yeah. Why?” _____ asked, skeptical by Hermione’s reaction. 

She didn’t say anything, and fidgeted her hands. “Well, I’m not sure if it’s my place to say.” 

“Oh, no. You have to tell me now. Spill.” 

Hermione looked around, checking to see if anyone was listening in the library, before leaning in. “Well, I-- and a lot of people-- were under the impression that Cedric was going to ask  _ you _ .” 

If _____ was eating anything she would’ve choked. “ _ Me _ ? Why the  _ fuck _ would he ask me?” 

“You really need to work on your swearing.” 

“Thank you, Mione, I’ll add it to my list. Back to the subject, why the  _ fuck _ would he ask  _ me _ ?” 

“Why wouldn’t he?” 

_____ scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Easy for you to say. Victor Krum asked you to the dance ages ago. The ‘bon-bon’ with the  _ rippling _ pectorals.” 

Hermione blushed, and laughed. “_____! Would you rather go with him?” 

She shook her head quickly. “Absolutely not. I think I’ll be spending the Yule Ball in the astronomy tower charting constellations and freezing my ass off.” 

“You have to go! Even if you go solo.” Hermione looked up at the clock. “And Cedric probably didn’t ask you because he felt he had competition.” 

_____ began to pack up her things. “Competition? As if more than one person is lining up to ask me.” 

“I don’t know who it is, but I hear your name flying through the halls.” 

“That’s either because Peeves is yelling my name or because word got round that I finally punched Marty in the face.” 

They began to walk to their study period, being overwatched by Snape, as Hermione shook her head. Her curls flew beautifully in the motion, as she gracefully held her books. Obviously why Krum would ask her. “Well, I heard about the latter but I think it’s more than that.” 

They sat down at the long table, where Ron and Harry joined them moments later. Fred and George tried to get a word in but Snape quickly hushed everyone to create a quiet study period.

Ron sighed, sadly. “This is mad. At this rate we'll be the only ones in our year without

dates.” _____ assumed that Ron just meant him and Harry, but she wouldn’t be surprised if Ron included her. 

Snape, who was pretending to read a book, passed by him and whacked the back of his head with the paperback. 

Ron winced but continued to complain. “Well, us and Neville!” _____ now assumed that he figured everyone there, including Hermione, were currently dateless. 

“But then again,” Harry added, whispering quietly. “He can take himself.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “It might interest you to know that Neville's already got someone.” She turned to _____ and gave a look of  _ “It was gonna be you,” _ to which she replied with an  _ “As if.” _

Ron gasped at the news and stuck his head lower into his book. “Now I’m really depressed.” 

Fred scribbled something quickly onto a loose piece of parchment, and shoved it into Ron’s hand. Ron read it before scoffing. _____ grabbed the sheet and giggled silently.  _ GET A MOVE ON OR ALL THE GOOD  _ **_ONES WILL HAVE GONE!_ ** it read. 

He gave a look that was hard to place, that was almost pleading, to which _____ replied with a nod. 

Ron leaned over to Hermione, who was very occupied in her notebook. “Well, Hermione… You’re a girl.” 

She looked up and gave a sarcastic smile. “Well spotted.”

“Come on,” he continued, gesturing to nothing. “It's one thing for a bloke to show up alone. For a girl it's just  _ sad _ .” 

_____’s mouth fell open as she watched the situation unfold. 

Hermione wasted no time in letting her blood reach a boiling point. “I won't be going alone because believe it or not someone's asked me.” She gathered her things and stood up, furious. “And I said yes!” She marched away to Snape, handing him her notebook (which he took with a flick of his wrist) and left the hall. 

“Way to go, Ron.” _____ whispered. 

“It’s not like she actually has a date,” he tried, looking less confident as he continued. “She’s just saying that because she’s too proud.” 

“She does have a date. I know because I  _ heard _ him ask her.” 

“Look,” he told Harry, still in disbelief that Hermione had a date. “We've just got to grit our teeth and do it. Tonight when we get back to the common room, we'll both have partners. Agreed?” 

_____ watched as Snape walked up behind them, listening to everything. He adjusted his cuffs and sleeves, before aiming for their skulls.

“Agreed.” 

And Snape snapped their heads down with an aggressive push.

~~

“Are you excited for the dance?” _____ asked Hermione. 

“I actually am. I have my dress and everything already.” 

“You’ll have to show me before the dance starts.” 

Hermione shook her head. “I just don’t understand how you don’t want to go.” 

_____ shrugged and sighed. “I don’t have a date, I don’t have a dress, and I don’t have any dance skills. Don’t think I can go now knowing Ron will see me as a sad girl with no partner.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Who cares what Ron thinks? He’s just too pig-headed to see that some people are asked as a priority.” 

_____ scoffed. “Pfft, not me.” 

Suddenly, the common room bustled as a group of people surrounded someone, leading them to the couch. That person was Ron. 

He was in a broken sweat, with his face paled and sunken. He was shaking as a few of the girls following him sat him down in a chair. 

“Jesus, what happened to you?” 

Ginny shook her head, in disbelief and fright. “He just asked Fluer Delacour out.” 

That Veela woman from the competition. 

“What did she say?” Harry demanded. 

“No of course,” Hermione answered. 

Ron looked ready to vomit. He shook his head as he pursed his lips. 

Hermione gasped and covered her mouth. “She said  _ yes _ ?” 

“Don’t be silly,” Harry interjected, leaning closer to hear the story. 

“Well, that’s a little harsh,” _____ interrupted. “I’m sure Fleur saying yes isn’t the strangest thing to have happened.” 

The girls surrounding them gave a look of  _ “Oh, no it is.” _

“There she was walking by. You know I like it when they walk.” Harry nodded in agreement. “I couldn't help it. It just sort of slipped out.” 

Ginny cocked her head. “Actually, he sort of screamed at her. It was a bit frightening.” 

“Well, did you wait to see what her answer was?” 

“Are you kidding? I ran for it! _____, I’m not cut out for this sort of thing. I don’t know what got into me.” He let his head collapse into his hands. “Your date didn’t yell at you, did he?”

“Well, actually--” 

“Hi, Harry,” the Patil twins greeted, interrupting _____. 

Harry looked between _____ and Ron, before standing up to follow them. “Hey!” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Crazy to see the word count grow so quickly with every chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah! The first chapter is up and I am hoping to make this work a full length. I'll be including the head canons most popular in the fandom, and rewriting my more distastefully sides of the series. I hope you guys enjoy!


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